


Public Relations

by joban_disaster



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes is a little shit, Domestic Avengers, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, News Media, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Public Relations, Social Media, Steve Rogers is a little shit, The Gay Agenda, socialist steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-06-23 10:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 56
Words: 22,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joban_disaster/pseuds/joban_disaster
Summary: Or, how Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes ruined Pepper Potts' life.





	1. (raised) fisting the american public

Pepper thinks she should have made it clearer that, when she instructed Steve and Barnes to keep their answers at the press conference short and authentic, she didn't mean authentic as in  _break-the-American-media-machine-_ level authentic _._ But here they are at a pro-labor protest Steve  _insisted_ on attending, and, in hindsight, she  _really_  should have seen it coming.

"I hold," Steve concludes his Official Avenger Public Relations Statement, "only the greatest respect for these brave public workers, offer my deepest support for their actions, and appreciate their taking the time to welcome me so kindly today. Any questions?"

A sharp-chinned man raises his hand quickly from the media section. "Captain America, as a symbol of American values, why have you endorsed a political event many have called anti-American?"

"Well," Steve says cheerfully, and Pepper feels icy trepidation begin to trickle down her spine, "when my ma and I went out to march with the unions in '30, '31, '32, '33, '34, and '35, she told me, 'Under this economic system, the boss just gets richer and the workers just get poorer, and it's our responsibility to take to the streets and raise hell until it changes,' and it made a lot of sense then and it makes a lot of sense now. I'd love to see our country today shaped around that principle. Overthrowing oppressive administrations is the most relevant American value I can think of, after all."

"Captain," the reporter sputters, "are you saying you're a  _socialist?"_

Steve grins. "Workers of the world, unite."

"Solidarity, forever," the Winter Soldier sings quietly into his mic as the audience loses its goddamn mind.


	2. what's on tap

Barnes starts a bar brawl in Queens when a guy grabs a girl after she's tried to back away from a dance. Steve finishes it when the guy's friends decide to step in.

The next morning, Pepper comes to pick them up from the police station where they're sitting in one of the overnight holding cells, cuddled up as cozy as if they were curled in front of the fireplace. Barnes is eating cookies out of a Tupperware bin, satisfied smile hovering on his lips under vividly bruised eyes. Steve's curved around him, looking less beat up but just as smug. The expression only fades when he catches a glimpse of Pepper.

"Ma'am," he starts, blue eyes wide and guileless, "we were only stepping in to make sure she was safe!"

"Men are real assholes sometimes," Barnes chimes in, blinking. For the hundredth time, she wonders how someone she's seen  _literally_ dripping with blood can appear so innocent. It kind of makes her want to punch him. "We weren't gonna just  _sit_ there and let him intimidate her."

"I'm not here to yell at you about your idiotic fight," she says flatly. "That's not what they took you in for, is it?"

Barnes grins. "Nope." He pops the P.

Pepper raises an eyebrow and waits for more—guilt? shame? a vague sense of responsibility?—, but the ex-assassin just looks more and more pleased with himself and she snaps. " _Public indecency,_ Barnes _? Honestly?"_  Rounding on Steve, she can feel her hair beginning to spark with irritation. "And _you—_ you couldn't just  _keep it in your pants like normal people, could you_? You were getting _naked_ in  _broken glass,_ " and she sucks in a breath, " _what_ 's even sexy about that? The  _charm_ of _contusions_?"

Steve seems to have lost the words to defend himself, but his lover more than makes up for it. "Have you  _seen_ Steve throw someone through a window in a fit of righteous rage? Do you know what moral fury does to his  _shoulders?"_ When this approach  _bewilderingly_  fails to appease Pepper, Barnes changes tact, voice honeyed. "Ma'am, the bar was mostly destroyed anyway. We probably did the owners a favor by toppin' it off."

Steve quietly mutters, "Topping it off," and snickers.

Pepper's in awe that her existence has led her to this actual point, and that she's actually going to have to repeat this conversation to PR. "Witnesses said you wrecked the standing structure from the inside  _after_ the...  _altercation_... ended. And— Barnes,  _why do you have cookies?_ You are in  _jail!_ "

Barnes shrugs good-naturedly. "The girl in question and her friends dropped them off this morning as a thank-you. They're oatmeal raisin." He grins. "About the bar… okay, yeah, I don't have much to say about that. I was gonna get fucked real good before the police showed up though, so it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Steve  _cackles_. Pepper just wants to punch Barnes in his stupid face and go get drunk enough to obliterate this entire episode from her memory, not necessarily in that order.

Smiling angelically, Barnes holds out the Tupperware to her. "Cookie?"


	3. participate in democracy harder daddy

"Steve, if you say anything about socialism, I'll kill you. If you say anything about American imperialism— no matter how correct you are—, I'll kill you." Pepper hustles Steve and Barnes across the Capitol atrium, shooing them forward like preschoolers. They're certainly holding hands and giggling like ones. "Barnes?"

The Winter Soldier perks up. "Ma'am?"

"If you say a single word—if you think a single thought— about Steve's and your sex life in front of Congress, I'll make you go to every single panel on business infrastructure I attend."

"Ma'am, I would never." The bastard even manages to sound affronted at the suggestion.

"Good. Because if you do, I'm leaving you without entrails."

"I won't have sex with you if you're entrail-less," Pepper hears Steve mutter into Barnes' ear. "That's not kinky, that's gross."

Barnes honest-to-god pouts, looking for all the world like a kid refused dessert. Super-soldiers. Full of shit, all of them.

When the ("She's a nice congresswoman from North Carolina, Steve, for God's sake, why do you need to know her vote on the Patriot Act? This is a meeting to decide what federal resources the Avengers plan to request, not an ethics hearing!") chair of the House Committee on Education and the Workforce requests Steve's thoughts on Avengers benefit appearances in the coming year, Steve puts on his I've-been-lost-in-time-what-do-you-mean-a-hamburger-isn't-five-cents-anymore face and says, "Ma'am, I'd rather the Avengers' benefits be given to the public workers, seeing as you've cut theirs all already." He blinks innocently. "That's what you meant, right?"

Barnes looks infatuated.

Pepper wants to scream.


	4. steeb and borky, borky and steeb

"Captain Rogers, have you engaged excessively with the Winter Soldier during his rehabilitation?"

"Um."

"He's engaged excessively with my mouth on his—"

" _Barnes_!"


	5. luxury gay space communism

The crowd seethes on the steps of the Supreme Court, half bearing homemade banners bedecked in rainbows, the others waving signs citing bible verses and photos of smiling blonde children. In addition to their content, many of the latter few feature punctuation errors that make Pepper wince. 

Steve smiles benignly in front of a crowd of reporters, Barnes lazily sprawled on the edge of a balustrade behind him, flipping a knife between his fingers. Despite Steve's open body language, the Winter Soldier's sharp grin flashing at the crowd over his head seems to have convinced the reporters to give the man some space.

"Captain America, why have you decided to endorse a judicial decision many have called anti-American values?" a white woman trills, waving a Fox News microphone in Steve's face.

Barnes snickers. "Christ, you people don't know Steve at all, do you?"

"Well, since you ask—" Steve begins, and the reporters' ears perk up, hungry for sensationalist soundbites— "I've actually been waiting to ask the man next to me his stance on that for seventy years."

He turns to face Barnes, who now just looks very smug. "Buck," Steve says, and Pepper suddenly knows what's happening and how absolutely fucked off it's going to make Steve Rogers' poor PR team that he didn't clear it with them beforehand, "marry me? I hear it's legal now."

Barnes cackles. "Sure."

"Great." Steve shines a beatific grin on the gobsmacked reporter. "Does that answer your question?"

"But— you're Captain America!" the woman splutters, slowly turning a nasty beet red. "You can't do this! It's un-Christian!"

"I'm Jewish," Barnes offers easily. "You could convert, Stevie. You already have the guilt complex down and you love salt."

Pepper can already see the headlines forming: Captain America and Secret Gay Lover Exposed, Support Anti-American Values. She groans. The PR team is going to murder her.


	6. the assholes of history

"It's  _my_ exhibit! I should be able to do what I want in it!"

"Embedding knives in the wall is  _not an appropriate use of a national attraction!"_

"It's  _my_ national attraction! I'm makin' it authentic!"

"Barnes, I will embed knives in _you—_ _"_

"Steve will defend me!"

"Steve will  _be the one holding you up as a target!"_

"—uh, Ms. Potts, is this a bad time to tell you there's a call from the director of the Smithsonian Institute on the line? I can tell her to call back, uh, later, I just—"

" _Barnes! Get back here!"_

" _You'll never take me alive!"_


	7. the gay agenda

The day before their first gala, Barnes gets a Natasha-led crash course in twenty-first century norms.

"Gender roles," Natasha says as if it explains everything—which, in its defense, it probably does—, "are pervasive and to be spited at will. This includes the narration of labor, aesthetic, and authority, as well as dictation of the gender binary. Repeat."

"Gender roles," Barnes recites dutifully. "Gender binary."

"Good. Now, people can still be dicks about it, but you are allowed to present any way you'd like to. Remember the key concept," and she and Barnes say emphatically in unison, "— _fuck your gender roles._ '"

When Barnes shows up to the gala on Steve's arm in a strikingly cut tux and rich scarlet lipstick and a reporter asks him why he's chosen such an...  _interesting_... look—

"— _fuck your gender roles,_ " Barnes yells cheerfully and mugs for the camera, gleaming arm slung around Steve's neck, deep crimson shining on plush lips.

(Natasha looks nothing more than a proud mom watching her child go off to the first day of school.)

"You know who thought gender roles were a good idea?" Steve adds. "Hitler."

Barnes nods. "Also, we're gay. Gay people don't follow the rules."

"I'm bi," Steve says.

"Me too, that's not my point, Steven." Barnes waves him off. "Anyway, rules are for the straights. What?" he says when Pepper buries her face in her hands. "Am I wrong?  _No_. I love the future," he tells Steve brightly. "I can just  _say_  this shit now instead of just thinkin' it."

Steve frowns. "You've _literally_ never not said anything you're thinking. You told me you loved me after two weeks. Like, after two weeks of  _knowing_  me."

"In my defense, I am  _very_  gay, thus the rules  _very_  don't apply."

"James Buchanan Barnes, you've never followed a rule in your life."

"Mm, say it again, baby  _doll_ —"

" _Okay_ , boys," Pepper interrupts loudly from behind them, sugary-sweet through gritted teeth, "how about you head inside now for a dance? And let me speak to the nice reporters?"

"Of course, ma'am," Steve acknowledges with a polite nod and a wide grin, "we'll be on our way. Would you mind, though," and his eyes sparkle, and before the words even leave his mouth she remembers that  _Steve Rogers is an absolute bastard_ , "reminding the media that this a gays-only event?"

"What," Pepper says flatly.

"Gender is a trap—" Barnes caroles in the background, "— _fuck your gender roles!"_


	8. truth, justice, and the american way

"You  _can't tell the assembled members of Congress to shove the war propaganda up their asses and get on with fixing their mess,_ Barnes!" Pepper shrieks. She pauses for a breath, then roars, "and you can't _tell them you've done it and it feels great, either!"_

The ex-assassin fixes her with a kicked-puppy look. He's perfected it sometime in the past ninety-eight years to the extent that, even knowing what he just instructed the most powerful leading body in the world to do with sensitive parts of their anatomy, Pepper can't help but coo internally over his big blue eyes before she remembers that  _she hates him_. "Ma'am, I was tryin' to  _inspire_  'em!"

"You're going to  _inspire my_   _aneurysm!"_ Pepper wants to rip Barnes' head off. She rubs her temples. "I need a drink. Or a lobotomy. Jesus."

"What happened?" Steve appears in the doorway, panicked expression flitting over his face. It only heightens when Barnes raises his head and beams at him.

"Stevie!"

Pepper _does not have time for this._ " _You—_ " she jabs a finger at Steve— "are in charge of dealing with Barnes' shit.  _I—_ " she hits herself in the chest emphatically, "am going to get paid more for this. And  _you_ —" leveling a baleful glare at Barnes: "are buying all my drinks for the next ten years."

"Deal," grins Barnes. "Does that mean I can tell Congress t—"

" _No_ ," Pepper says.

Barnes pouts.


	9. caw caw motherfuckers

"Captain America," a wide-eyed woman asks at the audience mic, "do the Avengers use codenames?"

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the Winter Soldier beats him to it. "Of course," he says, and smirks in a way that has half the audience members—of allgenders— swooning. "Hawkeye is 'Eagle One.' Black Widow is 'Been there, done that' _—_ "

Pepper's eyes widen and she dives for the soundboard. "Cut his mic."

"—Steve is 'Currently doing that'—"

" _Now,"_ she begs, "before he keeps _—"_

"—Thor is 'It happened once in a dream'—"

"… PR is going to  _kill me._ "

"—Stark is 'If I got to eat someone's head after sex'—"

"… I'm going to kill  _him._ "

"And the Falcon is 'Eagle Two," Barnes finishes, dimpling sweetly at the captive audience. "Bird theme. Next?"


	10. my giant fuck-off sniper rifle and me

" _Aliens?"_ Tony groans, rubbing his temples. "I thought we already had aliens."

"Last time was robots," Sam offers. "Remember? Yellow."

Tony pouts. "God, that was awful. Yellow's never been my color. And they shot goo when you hit them."

"What's up," Barnes says into his comm from where he's positioned on the roof below with his rifle, taking down aliens with fluid, easy aim.

"Uh, hey?" Clint says.

Barnes shoots him a disgusted look, visible even from fifty meters away. "Not  _you_ , asshole. I'm talkin' to my audience." He waves his phone at the group. "Say hi to Facebook."

"Who the hell showed Bucky Barnes Facebook Live?" Pepper squawks, horrified. "Do you know how much work it is trying to censor that man with a  _delay?"_

Barnes grins. "The people want me. Who am I to break their hearts?"

"I'm going to break your  _face_ ," Pepper screams back.

He checks his phone. "Ooh, there goesFox News Twitter. I'm goin' to Hell, apparently." He grins and yells, " _Hey, Stevie! I'm goin' to Hell!"_

" _You're my favorite!"_ Steve shouts down. " _Watch your back, babe!"_

Natasha  _beams_. "They're so cute." They watch Barnes pull his biggest gun off his back and shoot an alien  _directly in the face._

It splatters. Over.  _Everything._

"I love him," Steve sighs dreamily in the ensuing, dripping silence.

Pepper rubs her temples _._ "I hate you both  _so much."_


	11. media darling

"Five-second rule!" Clint yelps, stuffing a chip into his mouth from where it's fallen on the floor.

"Gross," Natasha mutters, kicking him lightly.

He sticks out his tongue. "You like it."

"Settle down, children," Bruce calls drowsily from the loveseat in which he's catnapping, feet in Tony's lap. "Play nice."

Clint grouses, "Yes, Mom," and throws a piece of popcorn at Natasha. She narrows her eyes at him threateningly.

"What's the five-second rule?" Barnes suddenly asks from the kitchen. Everyone except for Natasha and Clint jumps.

"What the fuck, Comrade Oglivy," says Tony weakly, "give the people some warning before you melt out of the shadows and give them all heart attacks, why don't you?"

"Five-second rule— if you drop something, you have five seconds to get it before it's contaminated," Clint tosses back over his shoulder from where he's scuffling with Natasha.

Barnes raises an eyebrow. "Contaminated by what?"

"Germs," Bruce says, at the same time as Natasha mutters, "Stupidity."

Barnes just stares at them like they're all mad. Pepper shrugs at him, sympathetic. "I think there's popcorn left over, if you and Steve want any."

Eyebrows still raised, Barnes tosses the rest of the popcorn into the bowl tucked under his arm and leaves as Clint wrestles Natasha into a headlock and the table breaks. Tony's swearing echoes after him and Pepper laughs.

* * *

 She's not laughing when, hours later, Barnes glances over at Steve giving a post-battle interview, winks at the camera, and says, "I gotta go."

"Where are you rushing off to today, Sergeant?" the reporter hurries out, obviously trying to capitalize on her dwindling time with the elusive Winter Soldier.

The expression Barnes wears as he opens his mouth again has Pepper already on her feet, phone pressed to her ear in damage-control mode. She  _knows_  that look. She  _hates_  that look.

"Today, I learned somethin' very important," he tells the reporter with a honed-to-a-fucking- _science_ Tortured Gaze, "about how sometimes you can't recover the things you lose unless you go after 'em quickly. Before you forget. And I've had too much time forgettin'— and bein' forgotten—in my life, you know?"

"Yes, you have," the reporter sighs, visibly melting into that tragic, ice-blue stare.

"I know." Barnes gazes mournfully into the distance. As the reporter's eyes widen in awe, Barnes' plush pout widens into a brilliant grin and he shouts, " _Stevie!"_

Steve whips around from where he's speaking quietly with a journalist, muscles tensing in preparation for conflict. He relaxes as Bucky jogs over and drops his dog tags into Steve's uniform belt, brushing his hands over Steve's hips in a manner that makes Steve swallow and flush scarlet. "Buck?"

"Oh no, I dropped it," Barnes purrs, hooking a slim finger around the front of Steve's belt to tug him closer, "five-second rule."

"What's the five-second r—  _mm_!"

"Okay, that is  _not_  in the definition of the five-second rule," Clint exclaims loudly in the resounding silence, "and I am  _not_  comfortable with change. Especially change via the Winter Soldier's hands down Captain America's pants."

"I can work with it," Tony says cheerfully, cocking his head to get a better view. "I love my job."

The reporter blinks. "Can I quote you on that?"

Back in Stark Tower, Pepper throws her phone at the wall and screams.


	12. freedom of the press

_GOOD MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS_ , @jbuchananbarnes tweets from his Avengers-sanctioned account.  _DIBS_  follows, accompanied by a picture of a sleeping, facedown, bare-assed Steve Rogers glowing in the early morning sunlight.

Within hours, #godblessamerica is trending on Twitter and Pepper is on her way to an aneurysm. " _At least use a private account!"_ she finally shrieks after laying into Barnes for almost twenty minutes, fifteen of which are spent outlining privacy and copyright laws. " _You are recovering from being known as an internationally-wanted, brainwashed super-assassin and_ _I am trying to make your public relations as smooth as possible and your shit is not helping!"_

Barnes blinks at her with big eyes and makes stepped-on-puppy noises. She feels vindicated and apologizes for losing her temper.

 _PRIVATE ACCOUNTS ARE FOR THE WEAK_ , Barnes tweets not five minutes later,  _WE OVERSHARE AS A TEAM_. A picture of Cap's rippling abs, metal fingers wrapped possessively around the side of his hip, glistens beneath.

@tonystark retweets it, because, "C'mon, Pep, cut the guy a break! He might be a bastard but, Jesus, Mary, and  _Joseph_ , is he  _gifting_  the American people with these visuals right now."

Traitor.

* * *

 The next morning, Pepper wakes up to @jbuchananbarnes'  _PRO TIP OF THE DAY: TREAT YOUR ANXIETY WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA IN YOUR BED_. The picture is— as expected—  _massively_  inappropriate, and— _also_  as expected— welcomed by the internet to  _profound_  public acclaim. #buckybarnesnationalhero trends in minutes.

When @capsteverogers retweets the photo with the caption,  _You should see HIS morning glory first_ , and a second photo—this time of Barnes sprawled on the bed, dozing shirtless with sweatpants hanging low on his hips and an open book resting face-down over his eyes—, Twitter loses its goddamn  _mind_. Barnes preens over the comments and Steve looks like the cat that got the cream for the next  _week_. Pepper reluctantly lets Barnes keep his Twitter, if only for the fact that censoring him might start a riot.

(The next picture of Steve with water running down the hard planes of his torso, grinning around the edge of the shower curtain,  _might_  have eased her conviction just a bit more.)


	13. power walk, power bottom

"Too many people, too many people," Tony groans, banging his head on the limo window. "This is gonna suck."

"This is your fault anyway," retorts Natasha. She looks stunning in black, dripping with gold lace. It almost distracts from the homicidal expression on her face. "Whose idea was the damn benefit in the first place, hmm? A threat could be hiding anywhere in this crowd," she mutters, looking outside again.

"Will we be able to get inside?" Steve asks quietly, glancing protectively at Barnes smirking by his side. "We don't like crowds."

(Clint, to his credit, manages to choke back a comment on the use of "we." Natasha's stiletto heel ground into his toes may have been useful in this exercise in self-control as well.)

Pepper glances out at the cheering mob, media and fans clamoring alike for Avenger attention. "I'll get out first, make an announcement about clearing some space. That way, we won't see headlines hostile to our boundaries."

"Okay," Tony says.

Pepper smiles. "Okay. All of you, just stay here while I work it out. It'll go more smoothly if we play it c—"

" _Move, I'm gay_ ," Barnes shouts, striding from the car while yanking Steve behind him. Steve gives the media a helpless, polite wave as his tuxedo-clad, ex-assassin boyfriend murder-struts them inside. Everyone clears out of his way faster than if he'd announced his plan to firebomb the venue  _and_  eat his firstborn.

Pepper watches them go, mouth open. "Hate to see him leave, love to watch him go," Tony says dreamily, "yeah."

She stomps on his foot.


	14. they may take away our lives but they'll never take our freedom

"Avengers Smack Cam!" a voice announces gleefully before the camera zooms in on a hand slapping a pile of shaving cream onto a sleeping James Buchanan Barnes' face.

Barnes shoots awake, cursing a blue streak. "Steven goddamn Grant  _fuckin'_  Rogers—"

The video ends with the camera jiggling into black as Steve dashes away from Barnes' punch, cackling.

Over breakfast, Pepper holds up a phone playing a looping video of the Winter Soldier, rumpled and angry, covered in shaving cream and reaching out to a viewer shaking with laughter. "Steve. What. Is. This."

"That's a Vine of Bucky getting hit in the face with a handful of shaving cream, ma'am," Steve replies, snapping to attention. He dimples at Pepper and,  _dammit_ , she's melting again. Fucking super-soldiers, with their goddamn sad eyes and tragic pasts. They make it hard to hold any sense of righteous fury— it feels like yelling at a kitten. Even if she knows damn well the kitten is a bastard about to make her next twenty-four hours media  _hell_ , and, oh, look at that, the rage is back.

"And  _why_  is there a now-viral Vine of Sergeant Barnes getting hit in the face with shaving cream, Captain?" she snaps.

"Well, ma'am," Steve says, wide-eyed and innocent, "I'm just trying to get used to the future." When she stares at him in disbelief, he smiles beatifically. "Do we have any cinnamon? I found this thing and I wanna see if I can get Clint to try it next."

She hates him. She hates him  _so much_.


	15. america the beautiful

"What are your favorite things about the 21st century?" the bright-eyed reporter asks, waving a mic in their faces.

Steve smiles. "Unlimited hot water."

Barnes chimes in: "Thai food."

"Mud masks. Cucumbers over your eyes."

"Obamacare."

"Kale. And quinoa. And froyo."

"Sunscreen.  _Bikinis_."

"Vine."

"Butt plugs."

" _Barnes!"_ This one's from Pepper.

"He's my favorite thing about the 21st century, too," Steve says, and smiles so sweetly at Barnes that Pepper can't even stay mad about the meeting she's going to have with PR  _again._

 _(_ They may be bastards, but they're  _her_ bastards.)


	16. fair and balanced

"I'm going on  _The O'Reilly Factor,_ " Steve announces one day over dinner. "He says this stuff about me, uses my name to defend these really fucking  _noxious_ positions— I gotta do something about it."

"No, you're the fuck not," Pepper says clearly, and goes back to her potatoes. "Eat your damn dinner."

"Pepper!" Steve whines. Captain America,  _whining_. Things Pepper thought she'd never have to deal with. "He's a  _bastard!_  An  _incorrect_ bastard!"

Pepper  _glares_ at him. "I'm still doing clean-up from your last activist stint, Rogers. Do not make me deal with new shit. Or I will  _burn you._ "

Steve looks mutinous. "Yes, ma'am."

Of course, she forgets that Steve Rogers is not  _just_ Captain America, but is also the blonde half of a weapons-heavy, codependent entity. The next day, Steve sits next to her on the couch and flips to  _FOX_ without a single word and there, sitting on Bill O'Reilly's set bold as brass, is one James Buchanan Barnes.

Pepper's mouth drops open. "Steve."

"Yes, ma'am?" Steve asks. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Welcome to the show, Mr. Barnes," O'Reilly begins.

"Sergeant," Barnes interrupts.

O'Reilly halts, looks irritated. "What?"

"Please refer to me by my military title," Barnes requests politely— more politely than Pepper's heard him ask for  _anything_ in the 21st century. It sets her teeth on edge. He's  _planning_ something. "I'm not sure if you've heard, but I  _am_ the nation's longest serving P.O.W." His Brooklyn accent has faded, replaced by a near-perfect European neutral. A hint of Russian seeps through at guttural edges. "It was quite traumatic."

O'Reilly scowls. "You were the Winter Soldier. You killed JFK."

" _Bill_ ," Barnes gently chides, "we've hashed this out. I'm Bucky Barnes, American hero. I'm  _also_ the Winter Soldier, HYDRA assassin. People have intersecting identities, Bill. It's the twenty-first century now. If I can do it, you can do it." He pauses, smiling charmingly. "Speaking of, I wanted to come talk today about my best guy, Steve Rogers. You've been dropping his name on your show and he had some thoughts, but couldn't make it. So I figured I'd stop in instead."

"Yes," O'Reilly says, looking relieved to be on familiar ground. "Captain America. He's been the icon of American values for as long as we can remember."

"That's Stevie for you. Values coming out of his sweet, American-grown ass."

Steve laughs, then chokes it back as he schools his face back to neutral before Pepper punches him.

O'Reilly blinks, reshuffling his notes. "Well. Yes. He stands for the American way, and the people have looked up to him for as long as we remember."

"Except from before the war," Barnes reminds him, "when Steve was a scrawny, chronically-ill, working-class kid living with a single immigrant mom. Say, you had a segment on single mothers and the decline of the American family, didn't you?"

The host kind of looks like he wants to hit him. It's the first time Pepper's thought of Bill O'Reilly as relatable, well, ever.

"Saw that one a bit back. We had a good laugh. It was real cute though, how you got all worked up when the guest— NYU professor, degrees in American urban history and sociology, was it?— told you you were operating under incorrect information."

"Alternative facts, Sergeant Barnes," snaps O'Reilly.

"In the forties, we called that propaganda," Barnes says offhandedly. "But that's not my point. My  _point_ is that you ran a piece on Steve saying that he would be disappointed to see the state of the country today. It took us a bit by surprise, your saying that."

O'Reilly flushes again. He doesn't seem to be able to enter his typical shout-down mode of interview. "Well, my point remains. Liberals have let down the American way, and the Captain America we know and love wouldn't stand for it."

"Would you elaborate on that?" Barnes says with a slinking grin. Terror rises in Pepper's stomach. "I've been a little behind on the times."

"The attacks on free speech and Second Amendment rights, this Black Lives Matter garbage!" O'Reilly says emphatically. It's obvious that the topic is a passion of his, and his color rises as he gets more wind. "A Supreme Court ruling against traditional American values, men who say they're women and women who say they're men, biased media—"

"Bill," Barnes cuts in, "I was born in 1917, you know. That sounds terrible."

O'Reilly's face splits into a cat-that-got-the-cream smirk. Headline:  _The Winter Soldier Confirms America's Ruin by Liberals!_ "I'm glad to hear you agree, Sergeant Barnes."

"Oh, I wasn't agreeing in the slightest, Bill," Barnes tells him cheerfully. "It's just that everything you're saying sounds terrible. As in, aggressively moronic. As in, I was born a  _century_ ago and you sound more old-fashioned than that. As in, Captain America—and I quote—thinks you're a jackass. As in, I find myself in full agreement with my fiancé."

O'Reilly's mouth opens and shuts wordlessly.

"Steve's pissed at you, Bill," Barnes tells him gently, mockingly soft. "You keep dragging his name through the dust—" and the Brooklyn accent rushes back— "and usin' his name to promote policies he spent all his youth fightin' against. He has an arrest record a page long— protestin' with the unions, marchin' with the women, the works. He lit a police car on fire once after he saw the officer bullyin' a lady of color."

O'Reilly looks like he's having a heart attack. Barnes sighs sadly. "The man's a card-carryin' socialist, Bill, I'm sorry. Flamin' leftist. Always has been, always will be." And he straightens up, and suddenly the mocking smoothness is gone from his voice and the hard rasp of the Winter Soldier comes through. "So I'm here to tell you what he won't, Bill, because he's a good guy, one of the best, and he won't disappoint the PR staff by comin' on here and disciplinin' you. But I—" and the Winter Soldier  _beams_  at Bill O'Reilly— "don't really have that same complex.  _I'm_ not a nice guy."

His voice drops past hard into  _icy._ He looks murderous, manic. He bares his teeth at O'Reilly in a snarling grin. "So  _keep his name out of your propagandized, racist fuckin' mouth._  Or I'll have to come back on the show and say hello. Maybe you could do our wedding segment, huh?"

"You— you can't just—!" O'Reilly stammers in the background. He swallows and summons up his righteous rage. "You can't threaten me on air for telling the truth."

"Oh," Barnes breathes happily, "I don't threaten. I  _promise._ " He stands up and Pepper can hear the scuffle as people clear out of his way. Someone behind the camera goes,  _Oh, shit._ Barnes is in full Winter Soldier tac get-up and as he rises from his seat, his leather-wrapped form seems nearly feline in its effortless, predatory grace. When he smiles icily at O'Reilly, the host nearly chokes on his own tongue, metaphorical tail between his legs. "Thanks for havin' me on the show, Bill. Been a real pleasure, meetin' you. Steve says hi." And the program cuts to a commercial break.

Pepper and Steve sit in silence for a moment before Pepper shifts. "Steve?"

"Yes, ma'am?" He sounds nervous. Which, Pepper thinks, he  _should be_ , after the stunt he pulled and the shit it's going to land her in with PR.

She stares straight ahead. "I admire Barnes' self-control. I'd have lit the scumbag on fire and watched him burn."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve says, "he is quite impressive."

"Mm." They go back to watching the commercials in quiet. "If you pull a stunt like that again without telling me, I'm cutting your hot water."

" _Ma'am!_ "

"Don't fucking test me, Rogers."


	17. hell is other people, but mostly james buchanan barnes

"Fuck."

Pepper has no impulse control.

"Fucking  _hell_."

Pepper has no impulse control and now everything's on fire.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—"

"Did you just nuke the kitchen because the coffee maker jammed?" Barnes' voice echoes through the room. She turns to see him leaning a hip against the doorway, small smirk hovering on his lips, phone up and pointed straight at her.

"Barnes, I swear to God—"

"Instagram sends thoughts and prayers, Pep," he says.

She blows fire straight at him.


	18. government transparency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A transcript of Sgt. James Barnes and Ms. Virginia Potts' appearance in Congress. 
> 
> From Chapter 8: "truth, justice, and the american way"

Speaker: Sergeant Barnes, Ms. Potts, thank you for being here today.

Virginia Potts: It's our pleasure, Mr. Speaker.

James Barnes: I'm only here because I wanted to say that Steve's [censored] in dress pants should be declared a national monument and I hear you have the power to make that happen.

VP: Barnes.

JB: I'm also only here because Pepper threatened to light me on fire if I didn't come.

VP: Barnes!

JB: You said to be honest, ma'am. After my trauma at the hands of Nazi cells embedded within rogue American spy agencies and condoned by a large contingent of American politicians— in fact, from this enlightened body— who turned out to be turncoat fascist [censored], I'm big on honesty.

VP: Mr. Speaker, I'm so sorry.

JB: And, on that note, honestly, Mr. Speaker, with all due respect, what the [censored] has America been doing in its free time since I've been gone? Seriously, the [censored] you've all been pulling— Iraq? Who thought that was a good idea?

S: Sergeant Barnes—

JB: Ma'am, these chuckleheads have been [censored] with the American people for seventy years. Before that, too, but at least then the war propaganda wore stars and stripes and had a tight little [censored] that inspired half the drinking songs in the U.S. army.

VP: Barnes, I swear t—

JB: Congress asked us to come in today to testify about some special ops [censored] as part of a media campaign to pump up the folks at home about military spending, which, frankly, is obscene. Give the money to the schools, for God's sake! Or give the teachers their [censored] benefits back! Or, I dunno, fund a [censored] healthcare system! Stop advertising [censored] shooting people overseas as the fun thing to do around here.

S: Sergeant Barnes, pl—

JB: Well, Mr. Speaker, I think you're all full of some sweet-smelling [censored]. You need to sit down, stop twiddling your patriotic [censored] thumbs, stick the war propaganda up your [censored], and get on with fixin' the [censored] mess you've made. And speaking of star-spangled propaganda up your [censored], I really do recommend it— I made a habit of it during World War II and, let me tell you, I've never felt more patriotic.

VP: Mr. Speaker, we're going to go now. I'm so sorry. We can carry this on by Skype.

JB: I don't need to do anything more, ma'am, I've said what I wanna say.

VP: Thank you, again, for your invitation.

JB: Actually, no, I forgot to tell you assholes to get [censored].

VP: I'm so sorry, goodbye, I have a homicide to commit now. Barnes, get in the [censored] car. PR is going to have a cow and I hate you.


	19. move bitch get out the way

Clint shoots the (slime monster? alien? jacked-up Flubber?) oozing, green, carnivorous enemy in the torso(?) and it wails, clutches its body in agony, and slowly  _melts_  into a puddle on the ground.

"Oh, big mood," Barnes says into his comm.

"Who taught you modern slang?" Pepper hisses back from where she's watching the battle.

" _Pepper_ ," and she swears she can feel his disappointed glare from her vantage point, "I have  _Tumblr_."

She chokes. "You have  _what?"_ When he grins, she swears. " _Barnes_! Does PR know about this? Are you putting nudes of Steve online again? Am I going to have to do damage control?"

"You're never gonna know," he chirps, aiming his giant fuck-off sniper rifle down at the battle unfolding below, "and I hope it  _hurts_."

"Tony," she says into the comms, "if you make Barnes collateral damage on the next run, I'll do whatever you want in bed for the next week."

Barnes' eyes barely have a chance to stretch wide before Tony blows up the entire fucking roof. Pepper hums to herself happily. She really got one of the best guys.

"What the fuck," Barnes states flatly over the comms after a minute of crackling static.

"I hope it hurts," Pepper says.


	20. the fuckery in our stars

 Pepper’s immersed in planning a gala to celebrate Stark Industries’ work with amputees and prosthetic limbs when Barnes walks in, takes one look at the mess of screens and paper around her, and grimaces. “You look like hell. Whaddaya doin'?”

Pepper aims an irritated stare his way over the top of a laptop. “Working.”

He narrows his eyes. “Have you slept at all?”

She groans. “I said I’d organize this gala by the weekend, but nothing’s going like it _should_  and I really need a drink. Or maybe a brief coma.” Resignedly: “We need this as an awareness campaign and a fundraiser, though, and it’s really not about me, anyway. It’s an essential cause. So I have to get it done.”

“I think you should get yourself that drink.” Barnes raises a sleek eyebrow at her. “No coma. Bad for the brain.”

“I said, _b_ _rief_  coma,” protests Pepper, but she lets him shoo her onto one of the couches and toss a thick duvet after her.

“Take a nap, let it percolate,” he instructs, “then come back to it. Your brain will work better after a recharge.”

“My brain always works,” she huffs, but settles in and lets her eyes drift shut. Her last coherent thought is that Barnes, uncharacteristically nice, would have been a good big brother.

* * *

As it turns out, to _no one's_ surprise, Barnes is a  _conniving piece of shit._

“Why do you insist on putting me through this?” Pepper moans. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Barnes looks insulted. “I solved your problem for you. Fundraisin' and awareness, two birds with one stone. And I'm advocatin' my own narrative as an amputee and prosthetic-limb-owner. And it's not even official this time, ma'am,” he appeases.

Surprisingly, the appeasement _does not work._

Pepper drops her face in her hands. “Starting an Instagram account dedicated to posting a photo of Captain America’s abs for every thousand dollars raised _does not count as solving my problem_. It also might be definitionally counted as sex work,” she adds, eyes still shut, “which I certainly don’t condemn, but which I _cannot have Captain America and the Winter Soldier pursuing as a career choice."_

Barnes grins. “A, I raised fifty thousand dollars for your gala in under twelve hours. B, I got to use the handle @sendredwhiteandnudes, which is hilarious. C, now you won’t make me go. And, D, _don’t_ try to convince me that, when you saw the photos, they didn’t make everythin'a  _lot_ better.”

She throws her phone at him.


	21. two sugars, no cream

"We're going to film some of the Avengers' day-to-day scenes," the cameraman explains, "to feature as part of our series. To make them more relatable to the folks at home, you know? PR thought it'd be a good strategy."

"Yes," Pepper replies slowly, "I suppose they would."

"We'll jump in tomorrow morning, if that's all right, Ms. Potts," and jump in bright and early they do. The first cameraman sets up at 8:30 am as Bruce drifts into the kitchen to perform his morning worship of the coffee machine. He doesn't look up until he has a full cup of black coffee in his hand.

When he does, he blinks once, owlishly, at the cameras and glances at Pepper. "This can't be a good idea."

Pepper shrugs, makes her own cup of coffee, and sits down to read the newspaper.

She and Bruce spend the next hour quietly enjoying coffee and reading—Pepper, the paper; Bruce, on his tablet— before Natasha and Clint smash—literally—into the kitchen. "What's happening?" Bruce sighs, already resigned, as Natasha shrieks in Russian and hurls a knife at Clint's face. Clint ducks and shouts something back, madly gesticulating and waving his hands defensively. Snarling, Natasha retaliates with another knife quivering in the wall next to his ear.

Pepper sips from her mug and turns the page as the news team screams and scatters for cover. Bruce gets up to make more coffee.

It takes about twenty minutes of Russian swearwords, small explosions, and minor injuries for the argument to die down. When Clint and Natasha slump down next to Bruce and Pepper, they don't say a single word, just start nursing the cups of hot coffee—one cream, no sugar for Clint; two sugars, one cream for Natasha— Bruce slides over to them. Blood drips down Clint's face and Pepper passes him a napkin. He grunts in thanks. Natasha plays Words with Friends on her phone.

When the camera crew comes out of hiding, cautiously creeping back to their places behind the equipment set up around the kitchen, Tony blows in like an angry, grease-smeared hurricane. "Barton, Romanoff, what the  _fuck_  did you do to my  _beautiful, custom-designed gym?_ Why is there a  _crater_  instead of a track?"

"Natasha did it," Clint says immediately. Without missing a beat, Natasha tosses her cup of coffee on him across the table. A barbed arrow embeds itself between her fingers. She doesn't even blink, just gets up to refill her mug.

One of the cameramen faints.

Tony throws his hands up in disgust and stalks over to make a cup of espresso. "Animals. I live with animals. Morning, babe," he greets Pepper with a kiss to the head.

"Morning," she answers calmly, flipping to the business section of the  _Times_. "Sleep well?"

He grins and sits down to play around with his tablet. "Sleep is for the weak."

The camera crew hangs around warily in the background as the inhabitants of Stark Tower enjoy a more or less peaceful morning. Natasha and Clint quietly bicker again—only one knife involved this time— before apparently making peace and deciding to watch Netflix together on the couch. Pepper curls up in her favorite chair, feet tucked up under her, and lazily skims Twitter for mentions of Stark Industries; lost in his own thoughts, Tony's started writing equations on the table in Sharpie and, in his silk pajama bottoms and one of her sheer robes, looks like he got left in the sixties. Sam joins them around noon, bringing up muffins from the café downstairs.

The crew takes it easy until two super-soldiers slam through the elevator doors, metal hitting the walls so hard the plaster cracks; unlike the last pair to demolish part of the kitchen, they're  _not_  fighting. Steve has his fists clenched so tightly in Barnes' hair his knuckles go white; Barnes' metal hand stretches up the back of Steve's shirt and the other wraps around the nape of his neck, dragging the man's mouth ferociously to his. They're both absolutely covered in paint.

"That's appalling," Sam comments after a long pause during which Steve and Barnes ignore everyone and stagger into the kitchen where they continue to make out frantically.

"Cap's shirt's off," Clint announces as if narrating a sporting event.

"Why are they covered in paint?" Tony asks the air.

"Cap's pants are off," Clint responds as if it answers Tony's question. (Knowing the pair in question, Pepper thinks, maybe it does.)

"Okay," Bruce says placidly and goes back to his article.

The cameramen are gaping. There's the sound of shattering dishes from the kitchen, then that of Steve Rogers swearing guttural as a sailor, and the Winter Soldier purring, "That's it, baby  _doll_ , right there,  _oh_ , Stevie, baby—" and more glass breaking.

"I cannot believe I share a house with you people," grouses Tony, "the only one of you I actually like is Pepper."

Pepper hands him a muffin. Good boy.

There's another smash from the other room and this time Barnes curses, low and thick, under his breath. Tony blanches. "Are they having sex in the k—  _Oi! Stop destroying my kitchen! You have your own damn kitchen!"_

Pause. Then: "But it's hotter if it's in your kitchen, Tony," Cap says throatily.

"Yeah," Barnes adds, "because I get to wreck your shit while I get Stevie bouncin' on my—"

"Coffee?" Pepper asks the cameraman holding the boom. He shakes his head, pale.

"Why aren't you stopping them?" Bruce murmurs softly to her. "Normally they'd have you in hysterics by now."

"Ah." She turns to Bruce with a glowing smile on her lips. " _Normally_  I'm working for PR. But today?" And, in the background, Natasha slaps Clint upside the head and Tony swears and slams an iron hand onto the table and Steve yelps in a way that feels profoundly unpatriotic to hear, while Pepper takes in a deep breath and sips her coffee happily, "PR asked for it."


	22. media censorship

"Ask for it, Stevie," Barnes purrs. "I wanna hear you beg. Wanna hear you want it. Can you do that for me, baby? Let me hear you ask, so sweetly?"

" _Bucky_ ," hisses Steve, flushing crimson. "Not _here,_ come on, give it to me."

" _Beg_ ," Barnes breathes again, and his voice sounds like it's been dipped in melted chocolate, " _Steve_."

"I—" Steve's mouth opens and closes helplessly. He looks wrecked, pupils blown black and wide. "Buck, just—let me—  _fine_ , just—  _please,_  Bucky, _please_."

"Oh, that's good, baby doll— so good to me, you are, Stevie—"

"I don't know about you," Pepper says cheerfully to the reporter sitting next to her, "but I'm feeling incredibly uncomfortable right now."

The reporter shakes her head slowly in bemusement as they watch the two super-soldiers bicker over who's going to hold the microphone during their interview. "I didn't see my day going this way."

"Life is a rich tapestry," Pepper sighs, and gets ready to light her two boys on fire on air again. All in a day's work, she supposes. PR owes her overtime.


	23. like a (united) house on fire

"James  _Buchanan_  Barnes! You can't just  _tweet at the president of the United States asking if you and Steve can have date night at the White House movie theater!"_

" _But he said yes!"_

"That's not the  _point!"_

"But Steve is so excited, Pepper— c'mon, would you take that away from him? Imagine the  _eyes_."

"We  _have_  a movie theater already! In the building! With popcorn!"

"Yeah, but Steve and I  _already_  fucked there. This'll be new and exciting! My therapist told me to seek out new experiences that excite me as part of my recovery from horrific trauma at the hands of our owngovernment!"

"... I can't believe you, Barnes."

"So, is that a yes?"

"I hope you get thrown out by the Secret Service."


	24. five spangled stars

**Public Relations**

**Stark Industries**

_Sergeant Barnes' Recent Amazon Reviews of Erotic Products_

_To: Pepper Potts_

Dear Ms. Potts,

We're wondering what steps you'd prefer in addressing Sergeant Barnes' recent public activity on Amazon. We'd like to start repairing his damage to Captain America's brand as soon as possible: the ongoing discussion of his intimate details over the review sections is unproductive to this effort. 

 

**Pepper Potts**

**CEO, Stark Industries**

_Re: Sergeant Barnes' Recent Amazon Reviews of Erotic Products_

_To: Public Relations_

On my way back from a conference in Sacramento. Est. three hours.

I'm so sorry.

P

 

**Public Relations**

**Stark Industries**

_Re: re: Sergeant Barnes' Recent Amazon Reviews of Erotic Products_

_To:_ _Pepper Potts_

Dear Ms. Potts,

We have statements prepared for Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers to deliver. Please let them know they should expect a joint press conference to be scheduled ASAP.

 

**Pepper Potts**

**CEO, Stark Industries**

_Re: re: re: Sergeant Barnes' Recent Amazon Reviews of Erotic Products_

_To: Public Relations_

They've both fled the premises of Stark Tower. I have JARVIS on it right now. Again, my profound apologies for Barnes' conduct.

I  _will_  find him, and I  _will_  kill him. Then I'll kill Steve for letting it happen. Then I'll kill myself for having to have this conversation.

P

 

**Public Relations**

**Stark Industries**

_Re: re: re: re: Sergeant Barnes' Recent Amazon Reviews of Erotic Products_

_To:_ _Pepper Potts_

Dear Ms. Potts,

Please don't do that. We value you as director and would prefer to not see you imprisoned for manslaughter.

(A personal note from the head of PR: when you catch Barnes, please let him know the next time he breaks our gag rule on personal media we'll set a bounty on his head. Just an FYI.)

 

**Pepper Potts**

**CEO, Stark Industries**

_Re: re: re: re: re: Sergeant Barnes' Recent Amazon Reviews of Erotic Products_

_To: Public Relations_

Trust me, when I'm done with him, he won't have a head left on which to  _put_ a bounty.

JARVIS has results. They've gone to ground in Brooklyn.

Be right back.

P

 

**Sgt. James Barnes**

_Pepper Threatened to Light My Dick on Fire Unless I Wrote This_

_To:_ _Public Relations_

Dearest darling,

I'm sorry for writing Amazon reviews of sex toys under my real name. I should have used a fake name.

As an apology, I recommend the Velvet Plush Silicone Teaser.

-jbb

 

**Sgt. James Barnes**

_Apparently That Wasn't Good Enough for Princess Potts_

_To: Public Relations_

My deepest and only love,

In my defense, I wanted to let the people know what they're dealing with. Capitalism can be hard to navigate without an experienced guide and transparency is the key to success. I should know. I was deeply scarred by my terrible experience at the hands of the government. That kind of secrecy leads to a society unappreciative of decency, such as my effort to educate the populace in important matters of public health.

 

**Sgt. James Barnes**

_You Don't Deserve Me and I'm Sorry You Haven't Realized That Yet_

_To: Public Relations_

My precious dove,

Dictator Potts has explained the error of my ways to me. Apparently the details of Steve's asshole are not to be shared with the public. Due to my massive brain trauma, I had concluded that if Tony Stark is allowed to appear in public, any asshole was fair game and

 

**Sgt. James Barnes**

_I Can't Believe You People_

_To: Public Relations_

Snookums, babycakes, sweetpea,

She burned off my eyebrows! After everything I've been through! I came out to have a good time and I'm feeling really attacked right now.

 

**Public Relations**

**Stark Industries**

_Ms. Potts is an Able Representative of Our Departmental Morale and to be Honest We Wish She Would Do It More Often_

_To: Sgt. James Barnes_

Good _._

 


	25. captain assmerica

Barnes breaks the Internet when he Instagrams screenshots of a text conversation with Natasha.

 _TROUBLE IN PARADISE????_ the tabloids shriek. _#capgate_ trends immediately, as do  _#sadpuppycap_ and _#buckrogers_.

“Captain Rogers,” an eager reporter asks, “what’s your response to the fact that Sergeant Barnes refers to you as, quote, ‘a good-for-nothing SOB piece of tail,’ unquote, in his exchange with Ms. Romanov?”

Steve, unruffled, shrugs. “He hadn’t had coffee yet and I used his conditioner instead of mine that morning.”

“Also, he knows I literally only keep him around for his ass,” Barnes calls cheerfully from the side of the podium, “well, either that or Mt. Rushmore’s fifth head.” He winks. “National monument and all that.”

#captainassmerica trends. Barnes changes his Instagram name to @americacomesfirst and posts a picture of Steve, Mt. Rushmore's fifth head censored with an American flag emoji, in the shower.

Pepper has a glass of wine and goes to bed.


	26. amorous congress

November is the  _worst_. First of all, the Tea Party sweeps Congressional seats. Second of all, Steve's nudes make the rounds on Twitter—  _again,_  to Pepper's fury and unwilling awe. Third of all, they're  _politicized._

 _I DON'T HAVE TO GET STEVE NAKED TO SHOW YOU THE BIGGEST DICK IN THE COUNTRY_ , @jbuchananbarnes tweets at 3:12 am, tagging an article surrounding Republican-proposed legislation targeting public workers' unions,  _YOU CAN JUST LOOK AT THE SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE'S SEAT INSTEAD_.

 _HEY @GOP_ , he follows up at 3:36 am, attaches a picture of a nude Steve Rogers sleeping on his stomach, lipstick-red mouth-mark printed lovingly on his right ass-cheek,  _KISS AMERICA'S BUTT._

"For the love of God," Pepper hisses, shoving her phone into Barnes' face over breakfast, "if keeping Steve's junk  _off the internet_ is too hard for you, then please—  _please_ — just consult me before using it to endorse goddamn political movements."

Barnes nods, tapping distractedly at his phone. "Of course, ma'am."

Four seconds later, Pepper's phone chirps with a Twitter alert from @jbuchananbarnes:  _STEVE ROGERS' LEFT TESTICLE REPRESENTS MORE AMERICAN VALUES THAN THE CURRENT LEADERS OF CONGRESS - COMBINED_. Then, as Pepper draws a breath to respond, or scream, or set fire to something nonorganic:  _I'M DATING A SUPER-SOLDIER AND I'VE STILL NEVER GOTTEN FUCKED AS HARD AS THE AMERICAN PEOPLE HAVE BEEN BY @GOP._

Pepper slaps him upside the head, then glares at her phone and retweets it, then smacks him again.


	27. twilight's last fuck you

(After Twitter users' discussion of Steve's engagement to Barnes catapults the hashtag #capssexualityis to top trending on Twitter and Facebook, Steve decides to make it a little clearer. Naturally, the Winter Soldier is a supportive and encouraging partner. Also, naturally, as Pepper remembers with sincere hatred, whenever Barnes is involved it _never_ makes her job easier.)

* * *

@capsteverogers: #capssexualityis bisexual! :~)

@jbuchananbarnes: #capssexualityis dark-haired veterans over ninety with red lips, memory loss, and a passion for WWII history

@widow: #capssexualityis great speeches, terrible self-care

@tonystark: #capssexualityis freedom and justice for all

@eyehawk: #capssexualityis i double dog dare you

@samfalconwilson: #capssexualityis being a giant pain in my ass

@jbuchananbarnes: @samfalconwilson no he’s a pain in MY ass ;)

^@capsteverogers reblogged

* * *

Pepper remembers she's surrounded by idiots.


	28. i cannot tell a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A selection of Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes' Amazon reviews of erotic products.
> 
> From Chapter 24: "five spangled stars."

**CRYSTAL SUPER VIBRATION WAND**

By  _jbuchananbarnes_

The fuck. This said SUPER, not WEAK-ASS SHIT for WEAK-ASS BUTTS. Overrated.

 

**RECHARGEABLE DILDO VIBRATOR 10 SPEEDS**

By  _jbuchananbarnes_

Quiet, pretty, and powerful. Kind of like Steve. Unless I do something completely NORMAL on a mission (like engage a NORMAL AMOUNT OF COMBATANTS and get shot in the LINE OF DUTY) (fuck if I know why this freaks Steve out, I am the goddamn WINTER SOLDIER), and then Steve yells at me for thirty minutes, then has make-up sex with me…. he's not quiet then.

 

**NEW CRYSTAL GLASS DILDO EROTIC SEX TOY**

By  _jbuchananbarnes_

Not for beginners. Luckily, Stevie's a trooper. Never thought I'd get Stevie to cry from happiness, but there's a first time for anything!

 

**INDULGERS ASSEMBLE! : MÖAN-LNIR**

By  _jbuchananbarnes_

For every person who sends this to Tony Stark, I'll literally take out someone of your choice. This is the best thing people have contributed to science since silicone-based lube.

 

**VELVET PLUSH SILICONE PLEASER**

By  _jbuchananbarnes_

God. Bless. America.

 

 


	29. steve's ass vs. PR

**Public Relations**

**Stark Industries**

_PR Poll_

_To: Stark Industries employees levels 1-5; Tony Stark; Agent Clint Barton; Agent Natalia Romanov; Dr. Bruce Banner; Sam Wilson; Sgt. James Barnes; Cpt. Steve Rogers_

Dear members of the SI community,

We at PR have decided to take a public opinion poll on recent media strategies employed to best represent the Avengers Initiative and SHIELD. Poll options have been proposed by a focus group. Please select which of the following you think best advocates the positive impact of the Avengers Initiative and SHIELD on the world:

A: Steve's glorious glutes

B: Steve's awe-inspiring abs

C: Steve's amazing personality, skills as a leader, and dedication to better the world!!! :-)

D: Steve's breathtaking biceps

Please respond to this poll ASAP, as it is an urgent matter and crucial in defining SHIELD's next steps as a public program.

 

**Public Relations**

**Stark Industries**

_Re: PR Poll_

_To: Stark Industries employees_ _levels 1-5; Tony Stark; Pepper Potts_ _; Agent Clint Barton; Agent Natalia Romanov; Dr. Bruce Banner; Sam Wilson; Sgt. James Barnes; Cpt. Steve Rogers_

Dear members of the SI community,

PR sincerely apologizes for the recent inappropriate poll. Our servers were hacked by an unknown outside source. We have our very best technicians on the case right now, tightening our security and searching for the culprit. Again, we offer our profound apologies for the incident.

On an unrelated topic, James Barnes and Steve Rogers, or anyone seen to be hosting Sgt. Barnes or Capt. Rogers, should be reported immediately to the Public Relations Office.

 

**Pepper Potts**

CEO, Stark Industries

_Re: re: PR Poll_

_To: Public Relations; Stark Industries employees_   _levels 1-5_ _; Tony Stark; Agent Clint Barton; Agent Natalia Romanov; Dr. Bruce Banner; Sam Wilson; Sgt. James Barnes; Cpt. Steve Rogers_

E: none of the above - Barnes and Rogers, if I catch sight of you I'm going to let Strange turn you into frogs.

P

 

**Cpt. Steve Rogers**

_I'm Sure The Culprits Are Truly Deeply Very Sorry_

_Cc: James Barnes_

_To: Stark Industries employees_ _levels 1-5_ _;_ _Tony Stark;_   _Pepper Potts; Agent Clint Barton; Agent Natalia Romanov; Dr. Bruce Banner; Sam Wilson_

Sergeant Barnes and I have decided to take a brief R&R break in an undisclosed location.

SGR

 

**Sgt. James Barnes**

_Teamwork Is Based On Trust_

_Cc: Captain Steve Rogers_

_To: Stark Industries employees_   _levels 1-5_ _; Tony Stark; Agent Clint Barton; Agent Natalia Romanov; Dr. Bruce Banner; Sam Wilson_

#selfcare

-jbb

P.S. No one tell Pepper if you want to live. ;)

 

**Pepper Potts**

**CEO, Stark Industries**

_You're Fucking Dead_

_To: Sgt. James Barnes; Cpt. Steve Rogers_

Nice try. Like Stark Industries employees, agents, and Tony aren't all under my iron fist.

I won't find you. Natasha will. And she will kill you.

Be in the PR Office by 0700. Or else.

P

 

**Cpt. Steve Rogers**

_Re: You're Fucking Dead_

_Cc: Sgt. James Barnes_

_To: Pepper Potts_

Yes, ma'am _._

 

 

 


	30. call me bleep me

“I’m so glad we don’t have to worry about Captain America publishing inappropriate content online,” the head of PR confides in Pepper over lunch when she gets back from her conference in Denver, “he doesn’t really understand technology yet.”

Pepper blinks.

* * *

@capsteverogers: is this thing on

@tonystark: ^reblogged

@capsteverogers: if they try to build a wall I’m gonna use it for target practice with my fuckin shield

@tonystark: ^reblogged

@capsteverogers: the fascist cheeto masquerading as president can EAT MY ENTIRE GENETICALLY ENGINEERED ASS

@tonystark: ^reblogged

@capsteverogers: i’m not straight i'm not gay i’m an eternal scream

@tonystark: ^reblogged

@capsteverogers: [american flag emoji] [eggplant emoji] [tongue emoji]

@tonystark: ^reblogged

* * *

Barnes proudly holds up his phone over dinner. "Look, our babies get along."

Pepper wonders what she's done to be in hell.


	31. one nation under god

"Steve's a bastard," Barnes says at the Avengers panel when they ask him what Steve was like before the war. "He's always been a little shit of a bastard, and he still is, and I love him  _so much_."

Steve melts. "Buck, I've loved you since the moment I met you."

"You were a little shit then, too," purrs Barnes, "but god _damn_  could you set a fella on fire with those eyes of yours. And your  _mouth,_ oh. Sweet an' red an' made for wrappin' around—"

"— _the Bible, amen!"_ Sam says loudly.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. "And they say love is dead."

Pepper throws her hands up and goes to get a drink. She decides she's charging Barnes interest.


	32. inscribe us in the book of good life

When Barnes doesn't show up to breakfast, Pepper assumes he's sleeping in.

When Barnes rolls into a briefing looking grumpy as shit, Pepper assumes he's being a dramatic bitch about something stupid Steve did on a mission.

When Barnes smacks Sam upside the head at lunch and leaves, Pepper assumes Sam's being a dramatic bitch about something stupid Steve did on a mission.

When Barnes loudly curses out a shocked Bruce, baking brownies in the kitchen, and stalks out to obliterate the gym range with his  _grenade launcher_ (how does he keep  _hiding_ that thing in the Tower?), Pepper goes to find Natasha. Tony accompanies her with predictably more manic energy. " _Romanov!"_

Clint shoots awake from where he's napping on the living room couch, head in Natasha's lap. "Oh my god fuck what is it who is it Avengers assemble!"

(The huge eyes, bedhead, and prints on his cheeks left from Natasha's jeans do take a  _bit_  away from the drama of his rally.)

"The world is about to end," Tony states firmly. "Barnes is in apocalypse mode."

"I'm not sure why you want  _me_ ," Natasha says. "Bucky's been in apocalypse mode before. Like, for multiple decades _._ "

Pepper fidgets. "He yelled at Bruce for making brownies."

"But Barnes loves Bruce's brownies," Clint says. "He'd only avoid them if the—

"World. Was. Ending," cries Tony. " _See_? And he refuses to let go of the grenade launcher."

Natasha sighs. "You're overreacting."

"Barnes just threw Sam off the roof," Tony informs her, "for trying to trade his grenade launcher for brownies."

"They fuck around like that all the time, Tony." Natasha rolls her eyes.

"Sans wings."

"They do not attempt murder all the time," Natasha amends her statement, "that's new."

Bruce walks in, eyes stretched wide. "Is the world ending? Barnes built a survival shelter on the roof."

Natasha narrows her eyes. "Confirmation pending. Remember, Barnes  _does this shit regularly._ "

"We need to tell Steve," Tony says urgently, "we need to warn him."

"Warn me about what?" Steve walks into the room, yawning and scratching the back of his head lazily. "Why are you all here?"

"The world is potentially ending," Clint informs him quickly.

Steve blinks. "Um?"

They give him a quick rundown of Barnes' erratic and apocalypse-predictive behavior. "—and now he's camped out on the roof in a homemade sniper's den," Bruce finishes.

"Actually, he's currently shooting nerf bullets at food carts on the street below," Tony announces casually, looking at the holographic displays on his wrist. "The police are calling him 'armed and dangerous.'"

"Oh my god," Pepper breathes, horrified. "I have to talk to PR  _right now_."

"Guys—" Wanda begins but Clint her him off.

"We need to talk him down, obviously, before the police come in. They'll freak him out."

"Seriously, guys—"

"He needs to  _get off my roof,"_ Tony gripes, "and do this crazy shit somewhere else, like his shitty apartment in Brooklyn—"

(Steve shoots Tony an indignant look. "Our apartment is  _not_ shitty.")

("It's shitty," Natasha confirms distractedly.)

Steve narrows his eyes at her. "Your face is shitty.")

("What are you,  _six?")_

("Twenty-eight, you—")

"They're taking him in," Tony announces. "He cursed them all out, shot down a helicopter—"

"With a _nerf gun_?" Clint says, impressed. "Damn, son."

"—and now he's going to do a stay in police custody until we can go pick him up," Tony concludes. "He took the end of the world very personally."

" _Guys_!" Wanda shouts, fed up with the constant overrides of her interruptions. "The world isn't ending. It's just—"

" _G'mar hatima tova,_  fuckers," Barnes' voice says from the TV. They all turn back to the screen with mixed expressions of horror (Pepper), shock (Tony, Bruce, and Clint), and growing mirth (Wanda and Natasha). Steve just groans and puts his head in his hands. Barnes is smirking in front of the jail with a bunch of old ladies all wearing white and looking like they'd beat someone to death with their handbags if anyone even  _suggested_ touching him.

"—Yom Kippur," Wanda finishes with a large grin. Steve chokes. Natasha's laughter gets louder.

"This imprisonment is a direct form of repressing the religious practices of our faith," one of the old ladies growls. She can't be more than four and a half feet tall, coming up to Barnes' elbow, blinged out in a chunky white knitted hat. "The American state is as invested in homogenizing oppressed cultures as it is in perpetuating Israel's ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian people."

"Oh, shit," Tony says, eyebrows raised. "She went there."

"Jews all over the world have a holy duty to observe our high holidays," another of the old ladies says firmly, petting Barnes' hand soothingly, "and to join each other in solidarity against hegemonic anti-Semitism."

"Why are they so angry," Clint mutters blankly, "they're all, like, three feet tall. They're not big enough to have this much rage."

("Natasha's like five-foot-two and she has enough rage to bring down the Berlin Wall—manually— on her own," Bruce contributes quietly. Natasha beams.)

Steve speaks into his hands, still covering his face. "Never piss off a Jew on Yom Kippur. Low blood sugar is an incredible motivator. I once asked Bucky's sister Evie— Aviva— if she wanted me to bring her a scone and she screamed and punched a hole in the wall."

"Barnes did that too," Clint comments, "but with a grenade launcher. Family resemblance, check."

"—d we will not be silenced!" one of the old ladies yells at the reporters, waving her purse threateningly. "This violent act will not be tolerated!"

"James has been wrongfully imprisoned on this Day of Atonement," the first announces imperiously. " _Tikkun olam_ is a crucial facet of our faith. We will not stand for this injustice. Our people will come home from Egypt!"

Tony corrects, "From Jersey."

"Same thing," says Clint.

"James will never be abandoned by his people!" the old ladies blare from the TV. "We will bring him home!"

"—also, Yom Kippur break-fast will be held at  _Beth Israel_ synagogue at sundown," the tiniest lady adds with a grandmotherly smile at the reporters, "please join us for a night of celebrating the Jewish community and faith. There will be bagels, lox, and kugel."

"Except for the goyim," the first one scowls, "no goyim." The other four emphatically nod. "Unless you're single and doctors." The other four nod harder. "Now, we will take our long-lost son home." When the policemen in the screen begin to protest, she points a queenly finger at them and  _snarls,_ " _Don't mess with me,_ putz."

Barnes waves at the screen as they lead him majestically away. "May you have a blessed fast. Bye, pricks," he adds to the police. They glare. "That's homophobic," he tells them. The old ladies murmur tenderly to him and pat his elbows (all they can reach) soothingly as they meander off.

"Huh," is the first thing anyone says after the channel cuts to the news hosts debriefing the showdown. Tony scratches his neck absently. "Well, at least no one needed to go get him."

"He has been brought home from Egypt by his people," Bruce nods seriously.

" _Jersey_ ," Clint says again, disgusted.

Steve has his hands fisted in his hair, muttering a combination of curse words and complaints about missing Winifred Barnes' break-fast meal.

"PR's going to shit a brick," Pepper breathes.

"PR's going to shit a matzo ball," Natasha corrects, and snickers.


	33. kiss and tell

_"Agent Romanov, can you tell us what the Avengers do in their free time?"_

 

Pepper holds her face in her hands. "Oh, Jesus, whose idea was this."

"PR's holding another 'humanize the people who keep blowing up your shit' campaign," Sam says.

Bruce just groans.

"At least it isn't Tony giving the interview," Clint soothes. "Or Mr. I-Suck-Captain-America's-Dick-Instead-Of-Being-A-Good-Person Barnes."

"That's  _Sergeant_  I-Suck-Captain-America's-Dick-Instead-Of-Being-A-Good-Person Barnes to you, Barton," Barnes sniffs haughtily, and curls up under Steve's (occupied) afghan. Steve beams at him and strokes his hair.

 

_"Well, Hawkeye hides in the air ducts. He wears my yoga pants."_

 

Clint nods. "Distraction pants. She has great distraction pants."

"It's not the  _pants_  that make it distractin'," Barnes mutters into Steve's chest.

Tony and Sam hum in agreement.

Wanda rolls her eyes.

 

_"Dr. Banner meditates for nine hours a day and then eats all the cheese in the Tower."_

 

Flushing, Bruce refuses to meet the eyes around him now staring him down accusingly.

"Busted," Sam says. "You owe me that block of gouda I bought last week."

 

_"Steve trains eagles to fly in the formation of the American flag. Kidding. Steve knits."_

 

Steve seems unconcerned. "I'm making her a hat right now."

"No eagles?" Sam asks, disappointed.

"Only birds I got around are you and Clint, buddy."

"And this one." A metal middle finger is gracefully stuck out of the afghan.

"And that one. Thanks, Buck."

"You're welcome. Can you knit me a blanket?"

"Sure, sweetheart."

 

_"Tony blows his things up. Or gets blown up by his things. Depends on the day."_

 

Tony scowls, opens his mouth, and slowly closes it again. Pepper pats his head. "It's okay, baby, you're perfect the way you are."

 

_"Thor has weird Asgardian hobbies. I don't know. I once walked in on him sculpting a shield out of Play-Doh with a flamethrower."_

 

Thor shrugs at the questioning looks. "I don't know either."

"It's  _your_  hobby!" Tony hisses.

"Doesn't mean I know what it is."

 

_"Scarlet Witch and Vision have started doing pottery recently. I have no idea how or why, but it makes them happy. Wanda made me a mug with Hawkeye's face on it! His nose is the handle. It's so ugly it's adorable."_

 

Wanda blushes and turns her head into Steve's shoulder, overwhelmed by Natasha's compliment. Vision looks... like Vision.

("We're working on emoting," Tony whispers to Pepper.)

("You're doing great," she whispers back, because she loves him.)

 

_"Personally, I enjoy settling down with a novel and a cup of coffee. I also study ballet."_

 

The entire room cracks up.

"Natasha, the literature savant," Clint cackles.

"Natasha's hobbies: reading, coffee-drinking, ballet, maiming world leaders, the occasional undercover op that lasts for months until we all think she's dead—"

"—collecting knives, making Bruce cook pierogi—"

"—wrapping her thighs around people's necks in a completely non-sexy way—"

("She almost killed me like that.")

("Yeah, man, but you would've died  _happy_.")

"—emerging from undercover ops and revealing that she's _not_  dead, trying to steal Clint's dog—"

("She hates my dog. She likes Laura's kids, though.")

"— causing car crashes in her yoga pants—"

"No, that's Clint."

"Fuck off, Tony."

 

_"The Falcon has a real-life job, because the Falcon is the only adult in the Avengers."_

 

"Ha!" Sam shouts. "All you super-babies can suck my dick."

"Dude, like half of us are older than you."

"Yeah, but do you go to therapy like normal people with trauma in their pasts do?  _No_. I win."

 

_"The Winter Soldier is, as the Falcon would put it, a 'diva.' He does his hair for three hours a day and practices his runway walk."_

 

" _I_  go to therapy," Barnes complains.

Tony sniffs. "That was literally  _mandated by an international court of law_."

"Fuck off, Tony."

 

_"And Ms. Potts is an honorary Avenger because in her free time she babysits Barnes and doesn't get paid enough to put up with the steaming trash fire that is his PR."_

 

Pepper stabs a finger triumphantly at Barnes. "Finally.  _Someone_ says it!"

"'M not that bad," Barnes pouts, all indignant big blue eyes. "'M amazin'. Stevie says."

"You  _are_  amazing," Steve says and kisses Barnes sweetly on the mouth, "don't change."

(It's so disgustingly tender Pepper can't even respond with the hand gesture she itching to make. She consoles herself with the knowledge that at least now the rest of the world knows that Barnes is a bastard.)


	34. kiss it better

On Thanksgiving Day, terrorists attempt to attack Parliament, Tony discusses the benefits of K-Y jelly on live TV, and Barnes faxes a xeroxed picture of his bare ass to Paul Ryan's office on Capitol Hill.

(It's unclear which of these raises the most havoc; Barnes is banned from the copy room and is forced by PR to write an apology, Tony gets a mandatory minute delay on all his live press appearances, and Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Thor save Parliament from certain death. It's just another Thursday at Avengers Tower.)

Pepper gets to officially "supervise" Barnes' apology letter. She sets the first draft on fire ("'Dear Speaker Ryan, I'm sorry you and the rest of your associates haven't gotten the message to fuck off' is _not_  the conciliation we're looking for, Jesus  _Christ,_ Barnes") and balls up the next to lob at his head ("We don't threaten public officials with bodily harm, Barnes!"). It takes sixteen drafts and threats of termination with  _extreme_  prejudice to get Barnes to produce an acceptable letter.

(Even if Pepper might have let a few minor spelling errors go. Such as, "feckless bag of dicks" instead of "Mr. Speaker.")

(Hey, she's just a businesswoman, not an editor. How could she know? Honestly. Sticklers.)


	35. historians that declare captain america and bucky barnes gay and refuse to take a single step back from that position are braver than any u.s. marine

" _STEVE ROGERS AND I WERE NOT BEST FRIENDS SINCE CHILDHOOD,"_ Barnes publishes in a 72-font editorial on the front page of the  _Brooklyn Daily Eagle_ , " _WE'VE BEEN BANGING LIKE A SCREEN DOOR IN A STORM SINCE 1934."_

PR is apoplectic and refuses to even talk to Pepper. Pepper has bigger concerns.

She corners Barnes after breakfast (during which Tony heckles Steve— "I bet you cried the first time"— and Clint breaks a plate when Steve smiles a shit-eating grin— "Actually, that was Bucky after I ate him out so long he came four times.")

"How the hell did you get them to  _publish_  that, Barnes?" Pepper bursts out. "Tony's been trying to get them to publish his Wolverine erotica pieces for years."

Barnes looks up at Pepper through eyelashes fourteen-year-old Pepper would  _literally_  have killed someone for and smiles beatifically. "I just told them it was a matter of lovin' my country, ma'am."

"And they took that," Pepper says in disbelief.

"Ma'am," and Barnes throws back his head and  _laughs_ , and for a moment Pepper sees the bright-eyed, lighthearted boy about whom Steve tells stories over dinner, "who's gonna say  _no_ to imaginin' Bucky Barnes havin' sex with Captain America? The content editor of the  _Eagle?_ Yeah, right. We're the hottest thing since the Gold Rush."

"Oh my god, Barnes." His cockiness astounds. His correctness just makes it more impressive.

Barnes smirks. "In God we trust, right? Well," he says, watching her in a way that means he knows she knows he has a point and he  _loves_  it, "in the shape of Steve Rogers' ass the American people find God."

As a lapsed Catholic, Pepper supposes she should feel vaguely indignant about that statement. However, as a witness to the aforementioned Rogers ass, she keeps her mouth closed and decides to just let PR handle it.

(After all, truth, justice, and the American way, right?)


	36. first amendment rights

"Pepper!" Steve carols when she walks in on Barnes and him literally weeping with laughter over Steve's phone on the kitchen floor; Barnes can't even talk, he's giggling so hard. Steve has tears running down his cheeks. "We found— have you seen this video—this Nazi  _asshole_ Richard Spencer—and this guy just goddamn  _gets him_ in the  _face_ —" Steve gets out before he bursts out cackling again and just hands her the phone. Barnes almost chokes on his tongue when he hears the  _thunk_  and Steve actually falls over and lies in a ball on the floor, wheezing. "— _a_ _nd then they made it a meme, Pepper, look,_  he gets  _punched to 'Born in the USA.'_  Oh, god. I wish we'd had that footage in 1943." Barnes giggles maniacally as Steve busts into guffaws again.

Sedately, Pepper hands them the phone back, pulls hers out, coolly opens Twitter, and gives the phone to Barnes. "You have permission to tweet that video from my official account with any caption you want."

(She hasn't seen Steve laugh that hard in three years. Just for that, Barnes deserves a present.)

(Also: nazi-punching? Endorse away.)

* * *

 @pepperpottsceo:  _WINTER'S CHILDREN ARE HERE TO STAY MOTHERFUCKERS - PUNCH HIS FUCKIN LIGHTS OUT XOXO WINTER SOLDIER_


	37. dayenu motherfuckers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first year, Seder goes like this.

"Someone light the candles."

"Why can't we eat bread? I  _like_ bread."

"Because God says, 'Fuck you.'"

"Eat my ass, Tony."

"Eat this  _root_ , Tony. It's  _symbolic!"_

"What the hell is this?" Hacking coughs. "Jesus  _fucking_ Christ, Barton—"

"Oi! Stop bringin' that kinda language into myhouse. If you gotta swear, do it in Yiddish."

"It just lit my entire brain on  _fire!"_

"That's  _maror._ It's  _supposed_  to hurt you. It's a  _bitter herb,_ dumbass."

"I don't speak Yiddish, Winterfresh." Whining. "How am I supposed to express the  _sheer_   _agony I'm in_?"

"Classic goyim. Expectin'  _me_ to change  _my_ rules for convenience. You're fuck-all outta luck with me,  _putz._ "

Helpfully, "He called you a dick."

"I picked that up, Steven, thank you."

"Someone  _light_  the fuckin'  _candles._ And, Romanov, get your paw out of the  _charoset_  before I put a knife in it."

"Ha, I'd like to see you  _try._ "

"Barnes, when do we do the shots of wine? I hear there's shots of wine."

" _Cups_  of wine. And later. Except for the spider-baby. He gets grape juice."

"Sergeant  _Barnes_!" Indignant.

"Siddown, kid. You're lucky I'm not makin'  _you_  do the  _ma nishtana._ "

"The… what?"

"The Four Questions. Winifred— Bucky's ma— always made Becca sing them because she was the youngest, but after my ma died they made me do them too. Because I was new."

"You… got hazed by Barnes' mom?"

"And I learned 'em damn well, too. I was the Barnes' token Christian, I wasn't gonna let 'em down— had to perform perfectly so Winnie could brag in synagogue. She was terrible like that. Great woman, but those synagogue ladies' groups could rend a fella's reputation to  _shreds._ "

"She liked Stevie, though." Wistful. "Ma always said that, if I had to hang around with a goy, at least I got a Catholic with a nice amount of guilt. Said he'd fit in at  _shul_."

"She cooked the  _best_ seder meals." Happy sigh. "We had this fish thing—"

"— _this?"_

" _Ew_."

"Shut up, Stark. It's good."

"Doesn't matter if it's good. You said you wanted to share the Ashkenazi cultural experience, Stark. Welcome to step one:  _suffering is a part of daily existence and should be accepted as such._ "

"… At least I do it in a hot way. You've got that whole kicked-puppy, homeless thing going on."

"Aesthetic suffering is a  _Christian_  invention. I stay true to my heritage."

"… Barnes, when are we actually going to  _eat_?"

"As soon as Stark gets his fuckin' face out of the goddamn  _gefilte_. And someone lights the  _fuckin' candles._ "

"You know, Bucky's pa used to lead seder for  _hours_." ("When  _I_ was a kid, we would hafta walk five miles  _in the snow_  to get to school.") "We used to hide  _matzah_ in the WC so we could sneak off for something to eat."

"... Christ."

" _Oi!_ "

* * *

"Do they know this is streaming live?" the cameraman whispers to Pepper, eyes wide.

"Wouldn't make a difference." Pepper, wry, rubs at her temples. "This is the Avengers at their best. Making my relationship with PR more difficult, yes—" and she watches Natasha light the candles and Steve hand out Avengers-themed  _yarmulkes_ and Wanda hold up her latticed hands to lead the first blessings, Hebrew rolling off her tongue as fluidly as it does off Barnes'— "but that's the way family works. You take them as they are. And if PR doesn't like it—"

(Barnes wraps his shoulders in a white prayer shawl, Steve grinning like a fool at his side, and continues the service. His voice is confident, rising and falling in cadences obviously embedded deep in his history. For the first time since his emergence into the light, he looks genuinely, entirely grounded in himself.)

Pepper smiles. The soft vowels of the ancient language warm the candlelit room. "—then they'll have to do it in Yiddish."


	38. livin' it up when i'm goin' down

Earbuds in so she can hear the other voices on her conference call, Pepper walks into the open elevator, eyes on her phone.

There's a beat of quiet, then—

"Uh, ma'am?"

She looks up, takes in the pair of  _very_  disheveled super-soldiers— Steve, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed and uniform open; Barnes, mouth attached to the curve of the blonde's throat and hands vanishing in between him and Steve— pressed against the far wall of the elevator, spins on her heel, and walks right back out again.

The group silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Pepper sighs and rubs her eyes. "This is my life."


	39. draw me like one of your french girls

"What," says Sam, "the fuck."

Clint blinks once. "Why is Barnes naked?"

"The real question is: why are we complaining?" Tony asks, eyes fixed on Barnes' thick bare torso.

"It's for an NYU art journal," Steve says, waving a graphite-stained hand absently. "They asked specifically for a figure sketch. I've been drawing Bucky nude since 1934 so I figured I'd use him as a model."

"You should do this all the time," Natasha tells him sincerely. "You should use oil on him too. All over his—"

"Come on _,_ I  _sit_  there, man," Sam whines loudly, covering his eyes. "Now you've rubbed your dick all over the couch and it's ruined for me forever."

Barnes scowls darkly up at the group, pale graceful forearm stretched over his head as if he lay on a fainting couch. "None of you has any appreciation for art."

"I do," Tony says, tilting his head with interest.

Pepper slaps him upside the head.


	40. tell em, "boy, bye"

On Thursday, patience already frayed from a difficult board meeting, Pepper goes to pick Natasha and Barnes up from jail.

"What the hell," she sighs, trying to emulate Steve Rogers' Disappointed Voice rather than just blasting them with fire like she wants. "You couldn't just have a birthday night out on the town, get a few drinks like  _normal_ people, no. You  _had_ to pick a fight with a biker gang."

(... not admitting that Steve Rogers' Disappointed Voice tends to roll off both Natasha and Barnes like water off waxed paper. If anything, having seen Steve focus it on Barnes and Barnes' eyes blow hot and dark, it seems to have rather the  _opposite_ effect.)

"Three, actually," Barnes drawls from where he's sprawled in the cell corner, posed as gracefully as if reclining on a chaise lounge, "and normal people get in fights too— we're just better at winnin' them."

Pepper has to breathe very deeply for ten seconds.

"Look, ma'am, those palookas kept botherin' Nat after she didn't wanna dance. Said she must have been on the— well, somethin' rude, anyway."

"Barnes, people are assholes. It doesn't mean you can go super-soldier on them!" Pepper whisper-shouts.

" _I_ didn't go super-soldier on them, ma'am!" Barnes protests. "I just held 'em while Nat taught 'em a lesson about respectin' ladies. I wouldn't step in on a lady's own revenge, ma'am, I ain't that kind of fella," he adds, looking rather insulted.

Natasha rather smugly hums "Happy Birthday" and Pepper reminds herself that homicide is frowned upon in ethical societies.


	41. i solemnly swear to tell nothing but the gay agenda

The day they reopen the Cap exhibit, #buckybarnesbadboy trends worldwide. Because Pepper is apparently in _hell_ , some ass of a reporter brings it up at their press conference. “Sergeant Barnes, are you aware you are currently trending on Twitter as an official ‘bad boy?’”

Barnes preens. Steve looks charmed.

The reporter, emboldened, goes on. “Your pre-war image as a dancer, streetfighter, and lothario has certainly established you in the modern imagination as a dark and dangerous foil to Captain Rogers’ lawful heroism. Do you have any comments to offer on this?”

Steve winces as Barnes stares in horror at the reporter. “To Steve’s _what?”_

(“Dick,” Tony whispers. “Definitely dick.” Pepper kicks him in this shin.)

“The night before I shipped out, _I_ wanted to go to a science fair,” Barnes shouts, outraged, “ _he_ wanted to commit a felony and take experimental drugs! And _I_ have the rep?”

Steve's mouth twists.

“Do you know how many times I dragged his ass out of an alley after _he_ picked an _illegal_ fight?” Barnes continues, jabbing a finger at the reporter, who pales in the face of his ire. “ _Who_ was the one in this relationship who had a rap sheet the length of his arm by the time he turned twenty? _Not_ James fuckin’ Buchanan _fuckin’_ Barnes _._ ”

“Are you implying Captain Rogers is, in fact, a bad boy, Sergeant?” the reporter asks boldly.

Barnes glares. “ _Steven_ wouldn’t know ‘bad boy’ if it slapped him in the face with its dick.”

Steve leans over and whispers something in Barnes’ ear that makes two red spots appear high on his cheekbones. “No more questions,” Barnes says quickly, and he and Steve hightail it off the stage.

(“Did Steve just—“ Pepper asks blandly in the resulting clamor.)

(Tony makes a face. “Not classy, Cap.”)


	42. sharing is caring

"Never have I ever," Tony begins, swirling his drink eagerly, "eaten bugs." 

Natasha scoffs and tips back a shot, accompanied by Clint, Sam, Bruce, and Steve. "Amateurs."

"Just fry 'em up, tastes just like chicken," Steve mutters to Sam. Sam grins.

"Never have I ever made love to another man," puts forward Clint.

"Cheers," Tony murmurs to Steve, and they toast each other and drink. Sam grins into his shot glass and sips too.

Thor beams. "Quite the enjoyable evening."

"What?" Clint stares incredulously. "Seriously? Aw, come on," he whines, "now I need to pick up  _my_  game."

"Your  _gay_ -m," Natasha coughs into her fist, making Wanda choke back a laugh and Pepper grin widely.

"Never have I ever," thunders Thor, "been married!"

Clint drinks. Tony raises his eyebrows. "Well, that's just sad."

"Well, it didn't  _stick,_ " the archer returns snootily.

"Never have I ever smoked weed?" murmurs Bruce.

Tony rolls his eyes. Sam and Clint high-five and take a shot each, wrists wrapped around each other. Thor guffaws and chugs at his beer. "You Midgardians do have the most entertaining plant life."

"Okay," Pepper accuses, turning to glare at the room, " _who_ got the alien high?"

"Steve's like nine feet tall already," Natasha calls, "so he's been high too."

("Drugs are bad, kids, just say no," Steve says blandly.)

("Oh, fuck off, Steven.")

" _Never have I ever,_ " Sam shouts over the bickering, "had super-powers." He grins. "Got this handsome and strong all on my own, thank you very much."

Wanda blushes and sips her drink, smiling tentatively at Bruce as he does the same. Thor shrugs and downs his beer. Raising his eyebrows at his friend, Steve takes a drink, coughing out what  _could_ be interpreted as instruction for Sam to adjust some of his anatomy into a bodily-improbable position.

"Never have I ever broken my nose," Wanda shyly offers.

The rest of the room stares at her in awe. "Teach me your ways, sensei," Clint says, impressed.

Natasha rolls her eyes. " _Wanda_ doesn't pick fights with the  _mafia,_  dumbass."

"Never have I ever gotten an ass tat for a cover," Clint shoots back.

Natasha scowls.

"Drink. It."

Natasha takes a shot and scowls harder. Clint snickers.

"What," says Sam, eyes huge, "Nat. Legend."

"Drop it," the assassin snarls, and Clint laughs harder.

The game continues.

"Never have I ever fucked an ex's sibling."

"Never have I fucked a  _current partner's_  sibling."

"Never have I ever hotwired a car."

"Never have I ever used a dildo."

(" _Steven!_ You dog!")

("Sex toys weren't invented in the _sixties,_ Tony, Jesus.")

"Never have I ever dropped acid."

"Never have I ever dropped  _Sam._ "

"That was  _once!"_

"I landed in a  _river!"_

"... okay, yes, that was bad. Sorry. Blame JARVIS."

"Hmph."

"Never have I ever made porn," says Natasha.

Tony toasts the room and downs his glass. Steve, flushing deep red, follows, then looks vaguely shocked by his admission.

Eight pairs of fascinated eyes lock in on him and he squirms self-consciously. "Um, never have I ever eaten a Hot Pocket?"

"No way, Cap, you're not escaping this one," quickly says Clint. "Spill."

The man looks like he's regretting even setting foot in the room. "Um. Well. I just. Uh."

"Steve," Pepper growls, "am I going to have to do damage control on some Smithsonian historian or nosy reporter leaking your sex tapes?"

"I don't have a tape recorder, ma'am," Steve says.

 (Tony rolls his eyes. "A tape recorder. You sound ninety-eight.")

"It's not actually of me!" Steve yelps, hands up defensively. The spectators' heads swivel between them as if watching a tennis match. "I just...  _made it_."

"Steven Grant Rogers," Pepper snarls, "tell me what I'm about to deal with  _right_  this fucking moment."

(Tony sighs dreamily. "She's so hot when she's pissed off at someone who's not me. Actually, she's hot then too. But if I point it out then she tries to light me on fire.")

"It's  _private!"_ Steve says helplessly.

"I'll set  _your '_ private _'_ on  _fire_ if you don't explain yourself  _right the hell now._ "

"Never have I ever drawn pin-ups on commission," a silky voice purrs from the kitchen. Everyone whips around in shock (except for Natasha, who looks very smug) to see Barnes perched on the counter, staring at them with a shit-eating grin. "Never have I ever sold blue comics to sex-starved soldiers during World War II." He tilts his head, mocking eyes landing on Steve. "Never have I ever had my girlfriend tie my boyfriend to my bed and order me to draw him as she fucks him stupid."

Clint's mouth drops open, while Thor bursts into bellowing laughter. Steve looks like he's just swallowed his tongue and shit it out.

"Oh, my god," Tony breathes, gazing at Steve in absolute  _revelation,_ "you had  _so many threesomes,_ didn't you."

"God bless 1944," Barnes says cheerfully. "But before you freak out, ma'am," he tells Pepper politely, "they're not gettin' leaked to the press."

She presses her hands to her head. "How do you know?"

"Well, ma'am," he says, and the cat-that-caught-the-canary grin returns as he leans back on his hands, mission accomplished, "there's nothing more to get ahold of: I just released 'em to the Smithsonian."

* * *

(It takes two weeks for the scent of charred hair to fade from the kitchen.)


	43. semantically attached

Streaked with sweat, blood, and an undistinguishable but undeniably unpleasant  _gunk_ , Sam puts his forehead down on the table and whimpers loudly. "Sometimes Barnes can be a straight-up  _bastard_."

"Training rough today?" Pepper asks sympathetically over her cup of tea, receiving a nod and a pair of sad, liquid brown eyes in response.

Wanda soothingly rubs Sam's head and gets up to make him a mug of his own. Natasha snickers.

Sam lifts his gaze to shoot the ex-assassin a baleful glare. "What?"

She waves a hand, chuckling still. "Nothing, nothing. I just—" and she glances at Steve, still engrossed in his book and happily unaware of the dramatics at the table, and breaks down into another wave of giggles— "never thought I'd hear the words 'Barnes' and 'straight' in the same sentence."

"I think the real problem is the word 'sometimes,'" mutters Clint.

(Pepper resolves to buy Clint drinks for the next year.)

(He _gets it_.)


	44. cap scratch fever

At breakfast, Barnes bolts upright and turns to Steve, eyes wide.

"No," Pepper says crisply, cutting him off before he opened his mouth.

Barnes frowns, lips pulling down. "But—"

"No. The last time you got that look, I ended up trying to explain to Congress that Captain America was  _not_ , in fact, changing his name to Captain Keister.  _No_."

She can feel Barnes aiming his damn  _Look_  at her— that plush, wide-eyed pout that gets politicians sighing over their lecterns and reporters falling over themselves to get photos— and he's  _so good at it,_ and it _works,_ and she  _hates him_. "But my tragic past, Pepper!" he wails, "I haven't felt real joy in decades! I only just found Steve again, only just started to realize I'm free from my terrible trauma at the hands of my _own_ government—"

She narrows her eyes at him. "Stop using your trauma as a bargaining tool."

He sniffs haughtily. "My trauma is valid no matter how I deal with it, that's what my therapist says."

(Pepper's very glad the man's in therapy. Pepper also regularly wants to kill him.)

"Spit it out, Barnes," she sighs, giving up on the rationale that fighting can wait until  _after_  coffee. "What do you want?"

"Nothin', don't worry about it," he says snippily, "I'm fine. No, really, I'm over it. I don't even care."

Pepper glares at him suspiciously but lets it go. Maybe he'll mellow out after he gets whatever this pique is out of his system.

* * *

He does  _not_  get it out of his system.

" _Why would you tweet that you and Steve are adopting_?" Pepper shrieks at him over the table. "Why would you  _do this to me_? Do you know what this is going to do to my  _workload_?"

Barnes beams at her, nuzzling his nose into the top of the tiny black kitten's head just peeking out of his shirt. "We named her 'M1941 Johnson' after my best gal from the war." He scoops the absolutely minuscule creature out of his henley and plops it down on the table, letting it toddle on minuscule paws towards Pepper. "Johnny, look, it's your Aunt Pepper!"

Pepper stares down at her. Johnny blinks dazedly back. "Barnes."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You're forgiven as long as I get full visiting hours."

"Of course, ma'am."


	45. sugarpie, honeybunch

Barnes' phone starts buzzing from the kitchen in the middle of movie night and  _won't. Turn. Off._

"Who 'zit," Steve slurs from his facedown position in Natasha's lap. "'Tasha, make it stop."

She glares at Sam, the closest to the table. He holds his hands up defensively. "I'm not touching  _any_  of Barnes' shit, thanks. I choose  _life_."

Tony rolls his eyes and gets up, ambling into the kitchen to grab Barnes' phone and toss it to Natasha. She narrows her eyes at him but checks the screen exasperatedly, then with interest. "Huh."

"What," Steve mumbles, "whazzit."

She holds up the phone, still buzzing, with a small grin creeping over her face. "Anyone here know why someone named 'HBIC' in Barnes' phone would be calling him at this hour?"

When Steve limply shrugs, she answers the phone. "Romanov, taking a message for Barnes."

"Romanov, get your ass off this line  _immediately_ ," a tinny voice bellows from the phone.

Natasha holds up the phone with a massive, evil grin quickly spreading over her face. "Say hi to Director Fury, everyone."

"Hi, Director Fury," obediently choruses the room.

Fury hangs up, muttering profanities. Natasha immediately whips out her phone and starts texting Clint.

"What, exactly, is an HBIC?" Wanda asks cautiously in the ensuing lull. Steve's gone back to drowsing, starfished on the couch; Pepper's working intently on her laptop, feet tucked under a similarly-engaged Tony's warm thigh.

"Means, 'Head Bitch in Charge,'" Sam answers her through paroxysms of laughter. "Oh, I can't  _wait_  to see Fury's face."

* * *

"Barnes, why the fuck am I  _'_ Brace Face' in your phone?" Tony demands loudly the next morning, striding into Steve's bedroom with little more warning than his shout. "I deserve some goddamn  _dignity_ around here!"

Steve sits bolt upright and stares at Tony. "What the  _fuck_ are you doing in here?"

"Get out, Stark!" Barnes' voice yells from somewhere in the  _rat's_ _nest_ of blankets Steve calls a bed. "Steve's  _literally_ about to be balls-deep in my ass and you're turnin' me off!"

Tony throws his hands up and stalks out, muttering about dignity and ungrateful super-soldiers.

* * *

Tony ends up telling the other Avengers in  _vivid_ detail about both his adventure into both Barnes' phone contact list and his  _misadventure_  into Steve's bedroom.

"That's gross, Tony," sighs Pepper when he starts defending his actions. "You  _know_ what they get up to in there."

"I just wanted some  _justice,_ that's all," Tony gripes, and sits down at the kitchen table to sulk. "'Brace Face.' Yeah, right. I had  _perfect_ teeth, thank you very much."

"Wait," Sam says, "if Tony and Fury both have codenames in Barnes' phone, do you think—"

"—we've gotta find out what ours are," Clint finishes, grinning wide. "Man, I  _love_ the way you think."

* * *

"Drumroll, please!" Clint announces triumphantly, waving Barnes' liberated phone in the air. "Snagged it off the man himself, cracked passcode and all."

"It was Steve's birthdate," Sam faux-whispers. "Old guys are all the same, jacked-up or not. Not tech savvy."

"He also literally doesn't care," grumbles Tony. Sam ignores him.

"Are... you...  _ready to rumble_?" Clint crows.

Natasha gives a half-hearted cheer. The rest of the team lies about in vague disheveled apathy. Wanda's busy trying to toss popcorn into a dozing Thor's open mouth via her powers.

"Okay, tough crowd, Jesus," mutters Clint. "Anyway. The  _revelation!_ " He pauses, reads, snickers. "First up, we have one 'Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Purple Polka-dot Bikini!'"

"That's Bruce," Sam explains. "Nice pic, by the way. The cut-offs make your ass look very pert."

"Thank you." Bruce seems uninspired to get up from the couch from which he's lazily flicking through nature documentaries on Netflix. "Ooh, they put  _Planet Earth II_ on Netflix."

"Next up: 'Glinda'—" Sam grandly points at Wanda— "and 'Pikachu!'"

Thor snorts in his sleep. Wanda lodges a popcorn kernel in his left nostril.

"Nat, you're 'Kim Possible.' Hey," Clint looks up, offended, "why do you get to be the hot super-spy?"

Natasha blinks slowly, once.

"Right, okay, I see your point." Sam reaches over Clint to scroll. "Pepper, you're— heh. 'Ginger Spice.'" Pepper rolls her eyes.

"Here's Steve, he's— Jesus Christ."

"What?" Now, the room's attention locks in. The combination of Barnes and Steve, though potentially traumatizing to an intruding viewer at any given moment, promises a long tradition of entertainment.

"Steve's 'Sugartits.' Let's all take a moment of silence to honor this contact photo."

The room takes a moment of silence to appreciate the glory of Steve's indeed-wonderful pecs. Clint breaks it with an indignant squawk. "What the  _fuck?_ He has me as 'Robin Hood.' That guy's basic! I am  _not_ basic."

"And I'm 'Tweety?'  _Barnes,_  you  _asshole_."

"Terrible sense of humor."

"Give me that," Natasha says, giving Clint grabby-hands. He passes it over and she flips through quickly. A single sculpted eyebrow lifts. "We're sure we already got Steve?"

"Yeah," says Sam, "we ogled his chest, remember?"

"Shut up, Wilson. No," Natasha says slowly, browsing, "it's just that I have a contact with no photo, just the label, 'Daddy.'"

The room goes dead silent.

"Oh, my god," Tony says. "Barnes has a  _side-guy?"_

Wanda rolls her eyes. "No way. The guy's getting  _married_ to Steve. They're all about, like, gross-cute levels of commitment."

"Call it," Sam demands. "Please, Natasha, we beg you."

"This is massively invasive of Barnes' privacy," the assassin brings up mildly.

Clint doesn't even miss a beat. "I'll buy you the roasted eggplant skewers from that place in Midtown you like."

Natasha grins, shark-like. "Now you're talking my language."

* * *

She calls.

—one ring—

—two rings—

—three rings—

And then—

"Coulson speaking."

"Shut the  _fuck_ up," Clint says  _directly into the speaker_  before anyone can stop him. " _You're_ Barnes'daddy?" There's a moment of  _immensely profound_ silence before Clint winces. "Aw, mouth, no."

"Certainly, Agent," Coulson says dryly.

"Apologies for the inconvenience, sir," Natasha chirps briskly. She hangs up and lobs the phone to Tony. "There you go, problem solved."

" _Daddy_ ," Sam whispers, and dissolves into tears of laughter.

Pepper tips her head back and groans as she realizes that this time, Barnes has destroyed her peaceful afternoon without being present for a single moment of it.


	46. check one two three

Squeaky-clean and dressed business-casual (under threat of death via Extremis), the Avengers sit demurely in their appointed spots on their monthly media panel, moderated by an ever-gracious Pepper Potts. They're on their best behavior.

"This  _is_  my best behavior!" Tony yelps as Pepper snatches his headphones out of his ears. "I'm being so quiet, Pep! I'm wearing a button-down! I'm wearing  _wingtips_!"

"He's never been this quiet in a press conference,  _ever,_ " Natasha adds, "not even when I gagged him with Bruce's belt. Which I won't do again," she says quickly when faced with Pepper's unimpressed expression, "because we're on our best behavior. And also because Bruce isn't wearing a belt."

"It was pretty hot, actually," Clint muses. "Now  _that_  was a  _good_  panel."

"I'm wearing a belt," Sam offers. Natasha looks interested.

"No belts," Pepper hisses. "You're all adults. Steve, put your phone away. Barnes, stop Snapchatting Deadpool."

"How do you know I'm Snapchattin' Wilson?" Barnes immediately protests. Pepper swats him upside the head. He squeaks and scrambles closer to Steve, who puts a protective arm around him. Barnes nuzzles into Steve's side, giving Pepper a baleful stare.

"Just... stay there," Pepper groans, giving up on making him any more cooperative and just hoping Steve's proximity will keep Barnes' antics to a minimum.

The conference begins with soft-ball questions about the Avengers' relationships with government liasons. Tony takes the opportunity to send a "shout-out to Rhodey-bear, who lends my days light and my life meaning."

(Natasha snickers at this, leaning over and whispering in Clint's ear. Pepper shoots them a warning glance when Clint sniggers back. At her glare, they both look petulant, but fall quiet.)

"Do you have a support team to assist with damage incurred by missions in civilian spaces?" a brunette woman calls from the back of the room.

Steve clears his throat to spiel briefly, Cap Face pasted firmly on, on the bravery and commitment of local law enforcement and first responders to protecting people.

("Steve said yesterday that all police are pigs complicit in state violence," Sam notes.)

(Barnes snickers. "He once lit a police car on fire.")

Pepper kicks them both and mouths,  _I'll kill you both_.

Wanda has to smother a giggle.

A third reporter stands, waving a mic. "Do the Avengers have a post-mission routine?"

"Uh, I tend to just want a shower, a burger, and a 24-hour coma, in that order," Clint muses, taking the question. "I think everyone else tends to follow that, too."

Everyone nods, shrugs, or blinks laconically.

("And havin' that good ol' oh-look-we're-still-alive sex," Barnes mutters.

(Everyone nods, shrugs, or blinks with substantially more enthusiasm.)

(A headache starts pulsing behind Pepper's eyes.)

"Do the Avengers have friends outside the team?"

Sam grins. "Man, we don't even have friends  _in_  the team."

"Who's the alpha wolf?" some guy from CBS asks.

"Do you actually get paid to ask us these things?" Tony questions the reporter with genuine curiosity as Sam, Steve, Wanda, Barnes, Bruce, and Clint simultaneously answer, "Black Widow."

Natasha preens.

Barnes has a weird expression on his face, nose crinkled like a kitten. Pepper frowns at him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm not sure," the man replies distractedly.

Pepper gives him a weird look of her own.

"I've been thinkin'. I can't tell," he says slowly, "in a game of Fuck, Marry, Kill, which would make me more irritated: if everyone voted to fuck Steve or if no one voted to fuck Steve."

Pepper's mouth drops open.

Clint immediately turns to the panel, pen and paper appearing from nowhere. "Bets, _now_."

"Ten on Barnes threatening everyone into voting yes," Tony says quickly.

Sam snorts. "Ten on Barnes 'accidentally' shooting whoever actually votes yes."

"No comment," Natasha tells the room at large, and winks.

"Let's find out," Clint declares, and before Pepper can muffle him he stands, grins at the reporters, and shouts, "Make it trend on Twitter: hashtag fuck-marry-kill Captain America! Tweet your votes at our official Avengers account!"

Steve's cheeks go bright red but he takes Barnes' hand with a happy wriggle, whispering something in his ear that has Barnes' eyes glittering dark.

"Oh my  _god_ ," Sam says.

" _Brilliant_ ," Tony says.

"I'm going to murder you  _all_ ," Pepper says.


	47. don't need any presents other than you

For July 4th, Tony changes the emergency klaxons to Katy Perry's "Firework." When Steve tells him it's irresponsible, Tony responds by programming JARVIS to play "Birthday Sex" every time Steve walks into a room.

Surprising absolutely  _no one_ , the resulting ( _thanks, Natasha_ ) video goes viral, starring Captain America chasing a cackling Tony Stark while, in the background, the Falcon and Hawkeye loudly sing about candles and cake and the Winter Soldier cleans his nails with a knife and smirks at the camera. Of course, the positively  _filthy_  kiss into which Barnes yanks Steve at the end of the video doesn't hurt its popularity.

They temporarily placate Pepper with homemade apple pie courtesy of Winifred Barnes' recipe: every time she opens her mouth to lay into them Barnes shoves another slice into her mouth.

(It's a  _very_  effective diversion. It's also  _very_  good pie.)

As Barnes force-feeds her another piece, Pepper decides PR can wait.


	48. the good the bad and the slutty

"What's a thot?" Barnes asks around the piece of his toast sticking out of his mouth, furiously tapping at his phone.

Pepper chokes on her bite of bacon. "Why in God's name is that on your radar?"

"Well," Barnes says, "Tony just called me it on Twitter."

_Oh, my god, there's two of them._

"What's a DILF?"

" _What_?"

"Tony just called Steve that on Twitter too."

(Pepper decides to finish her breakfast before PR demands her head. She has a multimillion-dollar homicide to commit.)


	49. russian roulette

"Captain Rogers," one of the reporters says breathlessly, "you were such an important figure when I was growing up, I decided to go into nonprofit work because of you— it's an  _honor_ to finally speak with you, sir!"

"It's really my pleasure," says Steve warmly from the panel table, "because it's people like you, determined to make the world a better place, who've motivated me to be the man I am."

"That's sweet," Tony mumbles, head tipped back over the back of his chair. "Just  _precious._ "

"Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth," Sam mutters back, rolling his eyes. "Fucking liar. Guy's a total bastard. You know he painted my wings with little sparkly pink flowers? Took me a damn week to scrub them clean."

" _God, I'm bored_ ," Tony moans.

Natasha sends a sloe-eyed glance his way. "Wanna see something cool?"

Tony sits up straight. "When have I ever said no to that sentence?"

"One shitshow, coming right up," Natasha grins and winks at Barnes, who sends a predatory smirk back.

"Hey, daddy," Barnes purrs  _into his live fucking mic_ , "got some of that sugar for me?"

Tony jerks up in his seat, eyes  _glowing_. Sam actually drops his mic. Natasha covers her mouth with her hand, grinning as the room loses its goddamned  _mind_.

Steve, to his credit, doesn't bat an eye. "Sorry, baby, I'm rationed."

Later, they all explain sheepishly to a fuming Pepper that they were just trying to spice up the routine of the media sucking Steve's dick at press panels. With a jolt of horror, Pepper realizes that, rather than Barnes and Steve, _Natasha_  is the unstoppable force of nature currently ruining her life. She settles on telling an unsuspecting intern to get her a strong drink. Clint pats her shoulder comfortingly. "You get used to it."


	50. post up flawless

When #hanukkahgiftme trends on Twitter—

 _#HANUKKAHGIFTME_   _A BIG BOOTY HOE_ , @jbuchananbarnes tweets with a photo of Captain America mugging for the camera, wearing the fuzzy blue menorah sweater with attached twinkle lights Barnes gave him for Hanukkah last year.

(It's  _horrific_.)

(Steve wears it  _all the fucking time_.)

"Look, are you okay with the shit Barnes pulls with your privacy?" Pepper finally asks Steve one day as they wait for coffee together. She's wanted to ask since Barnes first started dropping commentary about Steve's ass on live television but when the man in question failed to respond with more than a doting smile, held it back. Now, she lets it out.

"Privacy?" Steve responds distractedly, clearly absorbed in watching as the space between him and the coffeemaker erodes.

"Um," and Pepper actually stutters— she, acclaimed, superpowered CEO of one of the largest companies in the world,  _stutters!_ — when faced with the need to bring up Captain America's bare ass to the man in question. "He doesn't really have boundaries about what... _personal information._.. of yours he shares with the general public. Like your preferences in bed. Or sexual history. Or nude photos."  _Politicized_ nude photos, she reminds herself with a shudder at the memory of  _that_  PR shitshow.

"Hmm? Oh, no, I don't mind," Steve says easily, eyes locked on the dwindling line. "I gave him full permission to do whatever he wants."

Pepper blinks. She certainly wouldn't trust _Tony_  with that kind of blank check. "Even when what he does gets you, personally, into trouble?"

(The whole the-GOP-can-kiss-America's-ass thing on Twitter  _still_  hasn't blown over for Steve in interviews. He blushes every time they bring it up, the complicit bastard. Pepper thinks payback's a  _bitch,_  fuck you, Steve.)

Steve twists to face her, small smile still hovering on his full lips. "Well, he's Bucky," he says, as if it explains it all, "his trouble's been mine since the day we met, and mine's been his, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Not for the first time, Pepper wonders if they should bring up the word  _codependency_  in Avengers group therapy.

"Look," Steve offers, noticing her (probably constipated) expression, "he's been forced to push down every single ounce of personality, stripped of any and all agency, and been completely devoid of any human intimacy for the past  _seventy years_. If he wants to work through that kind of trauma by tweeting sex toy reviews or putting photos of my naked ass on Instagram—" which, accompanied by thirty-three peach emojis and to PR's resounding horror, Barnes _actually did_  no fewer than seventeen hours before— "then he's welcome to do so anytime he wants."

"Oh," Pepper says, which sounds grossly inadequate in the face of the clear devotion ringing in Steve's voice.

"Plus, it _is_  a nice ass," Steve adds, winking, as they finally get to the coffeemaker, "don't you think?"

He grabs his favorite mug (Black Widow-themed), fills it with black coffee, and ambles off humming. Pepper watches him go, mouth still open, and for the first time, she questions who  _exactly_  is putting the naked photos on Barnes' Instagram. After a moment of contemplation, she dives for her phone.

 _#hanukkahgiftme_ , @pepperpottsceo tweets,  _a picture of the REAL Steve Rogers under the helmet._

It takes eight minutes, six thousand and twelve favorites, four thousand six hundred and forty-seven retweets, two thousand three hundred and sixteen responses, and at least twelve hundred photos of Steve, post-run and sweaty, before she receives the response from @jbuchananbarnes: a picture of Steve's bare ass.


	51. best served hot

As a rule, the Avengers are not particularly sensitive people.

Pepper's seen Natasha take her own fresh blood and smear it over Clint's face before, cackling madly all the while. It was gross and disturbing and, frankly, the amount of fun they had doing it makes Pepper concerned that these people hold the security clearance levels they do. Pepper's also seen Tony use his own bodily fluids as metal lubricant in his lab; Steve peel a bullet out of his own leg with a pair of nail scissors and floss; Sam  _watch_ Steve do this while  _casually_   _making_   _a sandwich_ _;_  and Barnes pee on a HYDRA agent's still-cooling dead body.

(She's still not sure which of these experiences was actually more scarring in the moment.)

No, sensitivity is  _really_ not part of the job description.

But when the reporters speaking in front of the fair giggle over the Captain America-themed ice-dunking booth, Steve Rogers reels back as if struck, recoiling into Barnes' solid chest, and Barnes whips his massive fucking  _grenade launcher_ _(that she already_  confiscated _how the living_  fuck  _does_ _he keep getting that thing back?)_ out the back of his goddamn coat and neatly blows the entire apparatus to the ground—

—Pepper remembers that the best defense is a good  _kill it with fire_.

* * *

Barnes takes the rest of the day to bundle Steve into their apartment and gentle him down onto the couch, where the blonde stays huddled in his arms as the Avengers flutter through the room. Bruce makes hot drinks while Sam drops a blanket onto Steve's feet and rubs his head; Tony bounces around chirping anxiously until Barnes throws a pillow at him and tells him to order take-out (which Tony hurries to do, relieved to have a task); and Natasha and Clint bring in an honestly terrifying number of firearms and set about neatly taking apart, cleaning, and reassembling them on the living room floor. Steve and Bucky's kitten Johnny tumbles on the floor around their feet. Between the well-worn motions, easy chatter, and copiously spiked hot chocolate, Steve slowly begins to unwind from the tiny ball he's been in between Barnes' legs. "Do we have any marshmallows," he asks hoarsely, the first words he's uttered since the disastrous morning.

There's a beat of silence, then the room nearly implodes as everyone rushes to retrieve the treat.

"Morons," Barnes mutters, lips moving tenderly against Steve's hair.

"Friends," Steve corrects back into Barnes' collarbone.

Barnes nuzzled his ear and then twists to face Pepper, striking face unusually sober. "I'm sorry I fucked up this morning, Pepper, but I couldn't let Steve—" He presses another kiss to the man's head— "deal with that bullshit, not like that."

"I only wish I'd done it first," Clint says fervently, "and if PR says anything different, they can suck my damn dick. Family takes care of our own."

"You make us sound like a mafia, Barton," Tony chuckles, dropping a tower of take-out boxes on the table. Wanda squeaks in excitement and dives for the marsala. Natasha hisses like a cat and shoves Sam out of the way so she can get to the tandoori first.

Steve smiles, just a little bit, and it makes Pepper want to cry and punch things very hard at the same time. "Wouldn't be the oddest thing I've heard us called."

"We're already called  _the Avengers_ ," Bruce points out dryly. "That's pretty mafioso already."

"Hey," Clint calls, mouth stuffed with spicy meat, "we need a godfather."

Barnes jabs a thumb at Pepper, grinning, and the combination of his dimpled glee and Steve's soft amusement has Pepper warm, inside and out. "If you're lookin' for the one who gets the people who need killin', killed, and the people who need savin', saved, she's right there."

... Oh.

(She thinks she'll put off telling PR until later. He deserves a head start on the bounty hunters.)


	52. something blue

**T minus 14 weeks to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

At 4:24 am, the emergency klaxons _shriek_  the residents of Avengers Tower awake. Pepper rushes down to the debriefing room to meet Tony vibrating manically in full suit; Clint yawning, shirtless, in boxers; Wanda wide-eyed, bedhead flickering with anxious red sparks; Sam and Bruce groggy and rumpled in civilian dress; and Natasha resplendent in fuzzy, elephant-printed pajama pants and a holey purple t-shirt Pepper's  _confident_ Clint was wearing the day before.

Steve and Barnes stand at the front of the room with a covered blackboard. Steve's wearing the disgustingly besotted, vaguely concussed look he commonly assumes around Barnes, holding a box of chalk next to the man in question, who brandishes a yardstick at the gathered Avengers like a sword.

Pepper's mouth drops open.

"Oh, good, you're all here," Barnes says cheerfully, like they're not up at the  _asscrack of dawn_ for  _God knows what shit Barnes has pulled this time_. "I assume you're wonderin' why we've gathered you here today."

"Oh, fuck  _off_ ," Clint groans, dropping his forehead down to the table.

It's dawning on Pepper that this is not a traditional  _Avengers, assemble_ emergency. It's also dawning on Pepper that she wants to strangle Barnes and Rogers with her bare hands. Potentially on fire.

"Stevie and I have been strugglin' to contain a serious issue for the past few months," Barnes continues his speech, waving the yardstick, "and we've been keepin' it from you. We're truly sorry. We want to reaffirm that you have our trust."

"I wish you'd  _kept_  keeping this from me until the  _goddamn_   _sun rose_ ," Sam hisses.

"We rely on you as our team," Barnes tells them earnestly, "and that's why we're askin' you for help with somethin' we can't finish on our own. We wouldn't ask otherwise."

Clint doesn't even raise his head. "Spit it the fuck out, Barnes, so we can go back to bed."

"Like goddamn normal people," Bruce mutters. The scientist has dark rings under his eyes and looks like he'd trade literally  _anything_  to not be where he is right now.

Pepper  _sympathizes_.

"I've helpfully provided you with a visual," Barnes says. "I present:  _the mission._ " He whips down the white cloth, revealing—

"— _a_ _seating chart?_ " Tony grits out. "This is the emergency?"

"When we came out as a couple, you said you'd be there for us if we needed you," Barnes tells them, "like the wonderful LGBTQIA allies we all know you are."

Natasha throws a knife at him before Pepper can.

* * *

**T minus 9 weeks to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

Pepper is representing Stark Industries at one of the most significant conferences for American industry.

Pepper has been looking forward to the panels at one of the most significant conferences for American industry for months.

Pepper's phone will  _not stop ringing._

 _"Hello?"_  she grits out, absolutely sick of the vibration.

" _Pepper?_ Oh, thank god," Barnes cries from the other end. "I've been tryin' to reach you— there's an disaster!"

Her heart jumps into her throat. "What is it? Is it Tony?"

"Wha—? No, of course it's not Tony, Christ, think about somethin' other than your own needs for once. I need you to go bridal shoppin' with me  _right now_. I need to look  _perfect for this wedding,_ " Barnes moans, "I  _need_ you."

Pepper drops her phone to the floor and crushes it ferociously under her stiletto.

* * *

**T minus 7 weeks to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

"Pink champagne?"

"Too sweet."

"German chocolate?"

"Too dark."

"Red velvet?"

"Too red."

"Too r— what the fuck does that even  _mean?"_

"Ms. Potts, I came out to have a good time and I'm feelin' really attacked right now _._ "

"I'll show you 'really attacked' when I  _shove this_ _cake up your ass."_

"You are a terrible best man."

* * *

**T minus 4 weeks to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

"Steve is going to hate me," Barnes wails, flouncing into Pepper's office and flinging himself down in one of the armchairs like a man-bun-wearing Dorian Gray. "He's never going to want to marry me!"

Pepper keeps jabbing at her laptop. "Haven't you two been planning to get married since you were, like, twelve?"

" _Yes,_ " Barnes says mournfully, "and now I'm  _old!_  I have  _wrinkles,_ Pepper! I've  _aged!_ "

"You're twenty-nine," Pepper tells him patiently without looking up. "That's how time works. Steve knows that. Steve has  _also_  experienced aging and, as such, will forgive you for being vulnerable to it."

"Oh my god, you're right," Barnes breathes reverently. "I need to tell Steve I love him before I die. You're a genius!" He rushes out as quickly as he entered.

Pepper has to take a moment and breathe very deeply.

* * *

**T minus 5 days to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

"I want to invite FOX," Barnes tells Pepper over dinner. "I want Bill O'Reilly there. I'm gonna throw him the bouquet."

"No."

"I'm doin' it."

"I will set you on fire."

"I already did it."

"Screw you, Barnes."

"Steve already did that too."

* * *

**T minus 3 days to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

" _Here comes the bride—"_ Barnes carols over the comms. Pepper watches the TV as the cameras zoom in on him, phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder as he lies on his stomach, tracing the alien's path over Boston— " _all dressed in white._ " He fires casually. Clean headshot. "Hey, Pepper, what are the rest of the lyrics?"

"Da, fuck off, da," Pepper sings and hangs up.

* * *

**T minus 1 day to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

In classic Steve tradition, Steve gets kidnapped.

Three hours later, Barnes bridal-carries him out as the building behind them blows up in a billowing, five-hundred-foot high fireball. Even Tony admits it looks badass.

"I want that as our photo backdrop," Barnes tells Pepper. "Stevie and me lookin' aces in front of a flamin' explosion."

"Last week, you said you wanted six thousand red roses."

"We can blow up the roses?"

" _No_."

"Oh, come on, Pepper! At least lemme light 'em on fire! It's  _romantic!_ "

"When  _you_ call someone and deal with them when they laugh at you for _ten minutes straight_  for ordering for six thousand roses, you can light the roses on fire. Until then? Suck it the fuck up."

"... Natasha woulda let me do it if  _she_  were my best man."

"Oh, fuck  _off_."

* * *

**T minus 5 hours to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

"Holy fucking shit."

"Breathe, Barnes."

"Holy  _shit_."

"Barnes."

"... and goddamn Jesus Christ's  _saggy left testicle."_

"You done?"

"I think I need a drink."

"I've needed a drink for the last  _year_   _because of you_.  _You_  can just deal with it."

* * *

**T minus 2 hours to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

"He's gonna leave me. Oh, god. I'm never gonna love again. I'll die alone."

"I don't get paid enough for this."

* * *

**T minus 30 minutes to the Barnes-Rogers wedding**

"Barnes?" Pepper pops her head back into the dressing room in which Barnes has been slumped against the wall, head cradled in his hands, for three hours. Natasha's petting his head like a cat in her lap soothingly. "Time to get ready to go, bud."

Barnes looks up at her, big-eyed and quiet instead of manic. It brings out the need to cuddle him she feels every so often and then tamps down ruthlessly. "Pepper, I'm scared." His voice is small.

"It's going to be fine," she says gently. "He loves you. And you love him."

"I love him so much," he tells her. "I love him so much sometimes I can't breathe 'cause of it."

"I know, sweetie." She smiles softly at him and crouches down. "Here. I brought this for you." She leans over, kisses his hair, tucks a crisply-folded, silky blue square in his top jacket pocket. "You've already got the old part down, Mr. Centenarian. We bought your shoes last month, so they count as new. You borrowed Sam's cufflinks. But  _I_  wanted to be the one to give you something blue. Just for luck."

* * *

**The Barnes-Rogers wedding**

And of  _course_ , everything's perfect, from the sweetly twinkling lights wrapped around the Prospect Park trees to the (reluctantly) crowdsourced seating chart. Holding the service in the Boathouse means summer sunlight streams into the room, casting the entire space in a warm, syrupy gold glow. Predictably, Tony sobs through the entire service and even Maria Hill can't keep the tears from her eyes when Barnes sees Steve, beaming and gorgeous in his tux, for the first time and breaks into a radiant, angelic smile that lights up the entire room.

They've settled on a Jewish ceremony ("My ma would  _never_ forgive me," Barnes swears up and down while Steve, already ambivalent about his Catholic roots, seconds it with a passionate, terrified nod) led by a Brooklyn-based rabbi who, much to the smug glee of Natasha herself, arrives wearing a Black Widow tie under his suit jacket. A silver-haired Becca Barnes, having showed up two weeks before the wedding to Pepper's deep approval ("— _because_ , James Buchanan _,_ there is no way you're getting married without a Barnes woman around to keep your troublesome  _tuchus_  in line!"), contributes Grandfather Barnes' prayer shawl as the traditional  _chuppah._ It arches beautifully over Steve and Barnes' heads, ancient silver letters traced over faded white and blue fabric, corners swathed in cascading wildflowers,.

The boys are stunning in their tuxes, shoes shined, Barnes' typical tangle of hair swept up by tiny, glittering stilettos Natasha gave him as a birthday present (Pepper didn't even _try_ to protest here) into a meticulously plaited bun. Steve's shoulders look impossibly broad in his black jacket and Barnes' sloe eyes have never looked better than under the smoky mascara he's applied for the occasion.

They break glasses under their heels to the cheers of the audience ("My baby's growing up," Sam exclaims wetly) and Barnes dips Steve into a messy, obnoxious embrace that leaves Steve giggling and Clint and Natasha catcalling the newlyweds, much to their delight.

True to his word, Barnes  _does_ invite Bill O'Reilly and he  _does_ throw him the bouquet, which promptly bursts into noxious flames in his hands, searing his coat jacket and staining his hands the color of vomit. Security unceremoniously shows him out afterwards. Tony puts a photo on his Instagram.

For their first dance, Steve chooses Rodgers and Hart's 1936 "Where or When" and, as Ella Fitzgerald croons about lovers who know they've stood and talked before— know they've looked at each other in the same way before— but can't remember where or when, Steve tugs Barnes into his arms and kisses him like he's the only thing in the world that matters.

When Barnes hands Steve over to Natasha and heads off the dance floor to get a cup of water, Pepper slips over to him. She's never seen him as light on his feet as this before and she tells him so. He snorts. "I've been tryin' to get Stevie to dance on an actual dance floor for seventy years. No way I'm lettin' the bastard muck himself up in his own head now."

She rolls her eyes. "No terrible PR stunts yet, I see. You easing up on me, Barnes?"

"Well," he says, smiling— and it reaches his eyes, and they crinkle, brilliant blue, "I figured I'd give you a break. Just until Stevie and I get back from the honeymoon," he adds, pointing a finger at her sternly, "and I have access to Wi-fi again. Don't think I'm doin' it 'cause I like you."

"Oh, I'd never," and they stand there for a moment, taking in the action on the dance floor. Natasha is whirling around Steve like a Valencian dancer, high  _high_ heels keeping her feet floating above the floor; Steve gamely hands her off into turns, mostly grinning like a fool and applauding appreciatively whenever she does something particularly fancy. Sam and Tony waltz enthusiastically across the floor, running into other couples without remorse. Agents Hill and Coulson lean against the far wall (good sightlines, Pepper notes), both smiling faintly at the spectacle while Bruce chats with Shuri and Jane Foster at a table, sipping glasses of sangria, and Thor seems to have sunk into a boisterous drinking game along with Clint and some of the younger SHIELD agents. The room hums with good cheer.

"We did it," Pepper murmurs. "You did it."

"We did it," Barnes confirms, taking it all in with a chuckle. "Couldn't have done it without my team, though." He nudges her hip with his own, playful. "That's you, by the way. My team."

A sudden warmth wells up in her heart for this dear,  _dear_ man and she leans back into him and rests her head on his shoulder with a sigh and a smile. "You know, you're my team too, Barnes."

"Call me Bucky," he says, and she takes his hand, and together they watch their family, old and new, laugh late into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming, folks, we'll be here all week. Remember: fuck your gender roles, go to therapy, keep it gay, and goodnight!


	53. hi the symbol of liberty and justice for all i'm dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sneak peek into the Barnes-Rogers household's next steps post-Public Relations:
> 
> “We’ve decided on Joseph if it’s a boy,” Steve announces. "Joey."
> 
> Clint asks, “What if it’s a girl?”
> 
> “Well,” Bucky says from Steve’s side with a ferocious grin, “since you ask.”

“Natalia.”

“Wanda.”

“Sarah.”

“... Brooklyn?”

“Go to sleep, Steve.”

* * *

“JARVIS the Second,” Tony says over the intercom at 4:14 am.

Without opening his eyes, Bucky yanks a knife from under his pillow, overarms it neatly into the speaker, pulls the pillow over his head, and falls back asleep.

Not for the first time, Steve is simultaneously terrified and turned on by his husband.

* * *

“How do you say, ‘Your dad’s a huge pain in my ass and wants to name you something fuckin’ stupid’ in Gaelic?”

“ _Gabh transna ort fhéin_.”

“Really?”

“No, I said, ‘Go fuck yourself sideways.’”

“Ooh, I love it, actually. Unique, worldly, meaningful.”

“ _Téigh dtí diabhail, cúl tóna_.”

“Shh, you’re going to make its ears bleed.”

“It's a zygote.”

“ _It_ is an _embryo,_ and you are going to _scar it in the petri dish_.”

“You don’t even know what I _said._ ”

“Yeah, but I know what the look on your face was sayin’, and it’s somethin’ your ma woulda smacked you for, Steven Grant.”

“Who exactly do you think _taught me Gaelic_ , Buck?”

“Ugh. She’s gonna be a terrible influence on her grandembryo, I can _tell._ ”

* * *

“I kinda want a Jewish name. I dunno.”

“What part of Judaism do you feel the most connected to?”

“Right now, I really just want matzo ball soup.”

“‘Hi, I’m Steve, that’s Bucky, and this is our embryo _,_ ‘Matzo Ball Soup.’”

“I _love_ it.”

“Go to sleep, Buck.”

* * *

“Amnesia.”

“Oh, get fucked.”

“You said _an intimate friend._ What’s more intimate than my constant companion of seventy years?”

“I was thinking more like, ‘Oh! I really appreciated this person’s emotional support during a hard time in my life!’ Or, ‘Wow, this person’s memory should live on via this touching gesture!’”

“I’m tryin’ to name my _child,_ not build a damn _war memorial._ I need you to start takin’ this seriously, it’s stressin' out my amnesia _._ ”

* * *

“Winifred,” Steve offers.

Bucky sneers. "My ma would literally rather I convert to Satanism than have her grandembryo inherit the name  _Winifred._ "

"How about Rebecca? Or Aviva? Esther?"

"I can't name the embryo after my sisters! They'd  _die."_

" _What?"_

"Oh my god, Steven, do you know  _anything about Jews?"_

* * *

 _IF IT'S A GIRL WE'RE NAMING THE EMBRYO MARGARET,_  @jbuchananbarnes tweets, _AFTER THE BADDEST BITCH WHO EVER LIVED_ _. SHE'S_ _GONNA KNOW HOW TO KNEECAP A MAN BY THE TIME SHE'S THREE. WE'RE VERY EXCITED. ALSO - ANYONE HAVE MATZO BALL SOUP? XOXO WINTER SOLDIER_

When what seems like the entire New York Jewish grandma demographic rolls up to Stark Tower toting towers of matzo-ball-filled Tupperware containers, Pepper starts off her day bright and early with a full glass of white wine and a note to the kitchen that they keep a supply of matzo ball soup in the Barnes-Rogers apartment.

(If she happens not to mention she'd slipped in and grabbed a few of the Tupperware containers herself— well, it's just a matter of good PR.)


	54. deep conditioning, or: how an american idiot saved the day, again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to where it all began: deprogramming a brainwashed, ex-POW super-soldier isn't an easy task. Luckily, the Avengers have history on their side.

They sit him down in a room with one (1) bolted-down table, four (4) holographic monitors, ten (10) colorful notecards, and one (1) very well-scrubbed, very tentative Captain America.

“Ready to comply,” the Winter Soldier says.

Natasha grins toothily.

* * *

**longing**

 “A grenade? You _jumped on a goddamn grenade_? I swear to _God_ , Rogers, I’ll fuckin'  _end you_ —”

“But it was a _dud!_ "

“ _You_ —!"

* * *

**rusted**

 “ _Without a parachute?”_

“It was more efficient! And I made it, anyway."

“Trust me, you won't make it for long now _,_ you _absolute moron._  Jesus _fuck_."

* * *

**furnace**

 “You could have—you—I didn't spend _twenty-four years of my life_ keepin' your scrawny ass alive just so that you could _chuck it into a fuckin' iceberg, Steven!"_

"There wasn't another w— ow! Buck, stop hitting m—  _Natasha! Stop laughing! I can fucking hear you!"_

* * *

**daybreak**

  _“Aliens?”_

* * *

**seventeen**

 “ _Nazi territory! No back-up! Suicide mission!"_

"They took you!"

"Rogers, that's  _not the goddamn point!"_

* * *

**benign**

_"_ There I was, I said, 'Be careful, Steve.' I said, 'Don't do anything stupid, Steve.' You said, 'Oh, no, Buck, I'd never!" And then the _literal moment_ I turn my fuckin' head you go, 'Oh, hold my beer' and sign up to get _experimented on by the U.S. government._ "

"It was just by Howard Stark, really, not the whole U.S. government—"

"I can't believe you're still goddamn alive. Fuckin'— you just stay over there, I can't even look at you right now."

* * *

**nine**

 "You literally stormed a HYDRA base carrying only a _shield._  Christ. Your mother is going to  _kill_ me."

* * *

**homecoming**

"Pulled down a  _helicopter."_

"Um."

"With your  _bare hands."_

"You were in it!"

" _I was in it?"_

"You thought it was hot!"

"I am recoverin' from  _seventy years_ of  _profound brain trauma_ , I'm _obviously_   _not the compass we should be operatin' with here!"_

* * *

**one**

"You. Went to basic when you were five-four and a hundred pounds soakin' wet."

"I kicked basic's  _ass_ when I was five-four and a hundred pounds soaking wet."

"I don't even know where to— how are you evenallowed out of the house anymore?"

* * *

**freight car**

"That's the dumbest th— you're fuckin' _insane_ , Rogers."

"More than the parachute thing?"

"Don't even  _mention_ the p— ugh, Steven, shut up, you're distractin' me with your stupidity. Look. If you'd gone down with me, all that meant was HYDRA woulda gotten two assets for the price of one. Yeah? Ain't have done no one an ounce of good, two evil super-soldiers runnin' around."

"I should have looked for you."

"And I shoulda kissed you way before '34— we all have crosses to bear. As long as it's not a fuckin' _grenade._ God in heaven. I  _wish_ I were still brainwashed so I could kill you for that and not feel bad."

"No more grenades, I promise."

"If you do, I'll murder you and hide the body so well they won't find you until the next century, punk."

"Love you too, jerk."


	55. dirty talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sneak peek into the Barnes-Rogers household's next steps post-Public Relations:
> 
> Barnes, shirtless: has anyone seen my top?
> 
> Tony: yeah, Steve is in the kitchen.

@jbuchananbarnes how am I like a christmas tree? we’re both at our best when topped by an angel

^@capsteverogers reblogged: @jbuchananbarnes AW

^@ceopepperpotts reblogged: @jbuchananbarnes This is your official. Avengers. Account.

^@jbuchananbarnes reblogged: @ceopepperpotts blocked and u n f o l l o w e d

^@ceopepperpotts reblogged: @jbuchananbarnes James I am sitting next to you.

^@jbuchananbarnes reblogged: @ceopepperpotts NOT ANYMORE MOTHERFUCKERS

^@ceopepperpotts reblogged:@jbuchananbarnes In Steve's lap does not count.

^@jbuchananbarnes reblogged: @ceopepperpotts spoilsport

 

@starkindustriesofficial: Stark Industries remains unaffiliated with Avengers official media accounts and is not available for comments at the moment. Please stop asking. We are a staunchly neutral party.

^@jamesbuchananbarnes reblogged: @ceopepperpotts this means i win

^ceopepperpotts reblogged: @jbuchananbarnes No, it means I revoke internet privileges for a year unless you get your own private account.

^@buckywiththegoodhair reblogged: shit she's good

^@tonystark reblogged: i could have told you that ;)

^@buckywiththegoodhair: [whip noise]

 

@capsteverogers: SHE CANCELLED MY PHONE PLAN UGH U HOE

@captsteverogers: I'M GOING ROGUE

@captsteverogers: I'VE GONE MAD WITH POWER

@captsteverogers: STEVE'S IN THE SHOWER AND UNTIL HE GETS BACK DOBBY IS A FREE E

 

@avengersofficial: To submit inquiries meant for Captain Rogers, please contact SI Public Relations. For inquiries meant for Sergeant Barnes, abandon hope, all ye who enter.

^@tonystark reblogged: @ceopepperpotts marry me

^@ceopepperpotts reblogged: @tonystark Get a private account.

^@irondick reblogged: @ceopepperpotts marry me

^@ceopepperpotts reblogged: @irondick I'm leaving you.

^@irondick reblogged: @ceopepperpotts :'(((((((

^@samfalconwilson reblogged: this entire team is a disaster

^@widow reblogged


	56. a bad case of censorship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sneak peek into the Barnes-Rogers household's next steps post-Public Relations:
> 
> Pepper screams into the void. The void screams back.

After an extended battle leaves half of Jersey City flattened, Barnes brutally concussed and internally bleeding, and Cap laid up with a ruptured spleen, Barnes takes a (enforced and involuntary) hiatus from social media. The internet, deprived of its favorite font of all-American dick pics, promptly goes on strike. Stark Industries stock value tanks— Pepper chokes the first time she sees the numbers. Barnes writes, “Down with capitalist tyranny!” in blood on the wall of his hospital room. Steve puts it on Instagram.

The internet traverses the five stages of grief. Fans post pictures of themselves with duct tape slapped over their mouths in solidarity. Barnes’ star ends up spray-painted on the sidewalk in front of Stark Tower. Pepper _hates_ the internet.

JBB LIVES, @buckywiththegoodhair finally tweets from the abyss, along with a picture of— shocker— Steve’s ass.

The internet sends matzo ball soup.

... Pepper is neutral on the internet.


End file.
